


Arrow - Objects in Motion

by Shadow_Chaser



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Author did not like the CW creating unnecessary drama (and killing off Tommy), Discontinued - will not finish, Episode: s01e23 Sacrifice, F/M, Gen, Laurel is not a damsel in distress, Laurel is not as stupid as she was in the episode, Tommy is alive!, abandoned work, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/pseuds/Shadow_Chaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of “Sacrifice” the cleanup of the Glades begins as well as the trial of Malcolm Merlyn with Moira Queen as the star witness.  The Vigilante is still a wanted criminal, but the shift of public opinion is changing.  Yet all is not well as from the corners of the world, there is still the matter of what happened on the island of Lian Yu after Fyers was killed.  Through all of that Oliver realizes that the objects in motion are far more portentous as his past collides with his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Race Against Inevitability

Arrow: Objects in Motion

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Summary:**

In the aftermath of “Sacrifice” the cleanup of the Glades begins as well as the trial of Malcolm Merlyn with Moira Queen as the star witness.  The Vigilante is still a wanted criminal, but the shift of public opinion is changing.  Yet all is not well as from the corners of the world, there is still the matter of what happened on the island of Lian Yu after Fyers was killed.  Through all of that Oliver realizes that the objects in motion are far more portentous as his past collides with his future.

 

**Author’s Tweaks:**

A few things changing with “Sacrifice” and thus making this an alternate universe story; one Laurel actually listens to her father and gets out of CNRI within those two minutes before the machine went off along with the rest of the staff so she is not trapped and subsequently Tommy did not die.  Also, Oliver was in no condition to actually ride a bike let alone sprint away from Diggle after the fight with Merlyn no matter the adrenaline – blood loss would have taken care of that nice and easy – and so did not go to the Glades.

 

**Story:**

 

_Chapter 1 – A Race Against Inevitability_

 

“Felicity…” Oliver grimaced as he realized the implications of what Malcolm Merlyn had said, “There’s another one…”  As soon as the words left his mouth, there was a rumbling sound and he moved towards the edge of the rooftop, helped by Diggle as he coughed, sending shooting pain throughout his body.

Together, the two of them watched in horror as part of the Glades began to disintegrate, the buildings toppling over as transformers blew high into the air sending a deadly shower of sparks and live wires.  The area surrouding Glades were not spared as the overload on the electrical grid plunged portions of StarlingCity into darkness.  From high above the building, Oliver though he heard screams and looked on in jaw-dropping horror at the sounds of destruction cleaved the poorest section of the city apart.

“Holy mother of God…” Diggle breathed out next to him as Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, the dizziness from the blood loss overwhelming his vision temporarily.  He winced again and was glad for the moment where Diggle squeezed his fingers tightly, driving the dizziness away.

“Oliver…the Glades…”

“…Yeah…” he forced himself to open his eyes once more as he stared at the destruction UNIDAC’s man-made earthquake generator did, but all his eyes would do was fuzz in and out-

“Oliver!” the slap to his face startled him as he blinked owlishly and realized he had nearly fallen unconscious and forced himself to look at Diggle’s pain-lined face.  “Come on man, don’t do this-“

“Sorry…Dig…” Oliver tried to smile and knew he was failing by the way Diggle’s face suddenly morphed into two Diggles.

“No…no, no, no, no…D-Dad?!” it was only Tommy’s frantic voice that made Oliver open his eyes wide and pivot unsteadily around, grabbing at Diggle’s jacket making the other man grunt as his own wound pulled in protest, to see Tommy running across the gravel-filled rooftop.

“Dad!  Please…” he saw Tommy kneeling by his father’s prone form, almost frantic before looking up at them and Oliver felt a twinge of remorse.  He did not know whether or not Malcolm Merlyn was still alive, but judging by the mortal wound he had given him…

“Y-You…” Tommy stared at him, his eyes red rimmed, accusing, almost heartbroken and Oliver’s world spun dizzily again as he tried to keep himself awake and not pass out.  Passing out with his wound, he knew, would not end well, especially since he did not know what Tommy would do.

“Dig?” he whispered as he could see the black spots forming at the edges of his vision.

“Oliver, don’t-“

“The arrow…” Oliver could only hope that Tommy would do the right thing as he felt the darkness taking him away and embraced it.

                                    *                      *                      *

John Diggle nearly fell to the ground himself as he barely caught Oliver by the back of his hooded jacket as the man finally passed out from blood loss.  He grunted as his chest wound pulled and tore, the knife still embedded within him, but managed to lower his partner to the ground in a somewhat gentle manner.  He huffed out a pained breath as he grimaced and grabbed at his own wound before looking up at Tommy Merlyn.

The young man had a wide-eyed shocked look on his face as he stared at the unconscious Oliver.  “Is he…?”

“He gave your father the stab wound at the cost of his own,” Diggle gently rolled Oliver flat on the ground and made a cursory examination of his young charge’s own wounds.  The most grievous one was certainly the one inflicted upon himself to finally disable and probably kill Malcolm Merlyn, and it was something Diggle needed to immediately treat.

“M-My Dad…”

“I need to get Oliver back to Verdant.  I can fix him up there-“

“But the hospitals-“

“You really think they’re going to treat a man dressed as the Vigilante?”  he would have taken Oliver to the hospital again with another probable excuse of misusing his motorcycle; but Diggle knew he did not have the strength to change Ollie out of his Vigilante get up, not with his own wound.

“But…you’re also wounded-“

“I’ve had far worst,” he shook his head, “but I can’t carry him myself…”

“Y-Yeah…” Tommy took one step towards them, nodding mostly out of shock at what he was witnessing, but nonetheless proving to Diggle that he still trusted Oliver enough to at least do what Diggle wanted him to do.  “But,” Tommy turned to look at his father, “my Dad…”

“Tommy, the cops are going to be here any minute now-“

“I know, but m-my Dad, he could still be alive-“

“He gave you that cut over there, lied to you, killed a lot of people down there,” Diggle hated doing this, but at the same time, he knew he could not afford another minute up at the rooftop of Merlyn Global.  Not with police reinforcements on their way.  It was a miracle that no one had come running after the initial task force sent to arrest Merlyn during their fight with his Dark Archer persona.

“I…I can’t just leave him-“

“Tommy, do you really want to be here when the cops come up in the next few minutes?  Do you want to be an accessory to murder-“

“God no!”

“I know you and Oliver aren’t the best of buds right now, but if there is a chance your father is still alive, they will help him.  They will help him, they will arrest him, but they will keep him alive because they need the answers to what the hell is happening!” Diggle nearly shouted and it was only by the grace of his wound protesting that he stopped and gripped the handle of the thrown knife again to stop himself from pulling it out.

“Okay, okay, I know what you mean, I’ll help,” Tommy shook his head as he hurried over to them and knelt by Oliver.  He looped his friend’s arm around his shoulder and lifted him up with a grunt as Diggle stood up, sagging a little from the pain of his wound.

“Are you-“

“I’ll be fine,” he waved of Tommy’s concern as he staggered over to where Oliver had discarded the arrow he had used to stab Malcolm Merlyn with and picked it up gingerly near its fletching, careful not to come in contact with the blood dripping on the other half of the arrow.  He did not know why Oliver ordered him to pick it up, but had a feeling it would come in handy somehow and not to taint the blood on it.  “You got him?”

“Yeah, god Oliver, lose some weight buddy,” Tommy breathed out as Diggle shuffled over and helped Tommy take some of Oliver’s weight as the three of them headed back into the building just as sirens and shouts started to make themselves known.

“There’s an emergency elevator that Dad and I only have access for,” Tommy turned them towards a different direction and Diggle was inclined to follow.  They soon reached the secondary elevators as the sounds of SWAT teams burst into the main office.  Diggle heard the sounds of glass and debris being crunched, the team checking in with each other, searching corners, examining the bodies, but all of it was suddenly cut off as the elevator descended.

It was a quick ride down to the garage floor and from there, a short distance to Tommy’s posh Mercedes Benz.  The two of them gently shoved Oliver into the cramped backseat, the sports car not exactly designed for more than two passengers, as Diggle grimaced again and grabbed at the handle of the knife.

“You should pull it out if it keeps hurting you,” Tommy commented as he stared at the wound and Diggle shook his head, strapping himself into the passenger side as best as he could.

“Can’t.  Will bleed out like Oliver’s doing right now-“

“He’s bleeding out?!” Tommy started the car and gave a frantic look back to Oliver, “but-“

“Just get us to Verdant, downstairs, and Felicity and I can handle the rest-“

“Who’s Felicity?” Tommy asked as he pulled out and drove off, headed to the Glades.

“Oliver’s IT girl,” Diggle replied flatly, “helped set up the internet at the club…”

“…That’s all?”

“Mr. Merlyn-“

“I know, I know, I’m being petty but…“ Tommy suddenly sighed as he slowed his car down, driving through the start of debris that marked the edge of the Glades, “it doesn’t excuse him for what he did with Laurel- you know what?  Forget it…just-“

“Tommy-“

“No, forget it; it’s something I have to deal with him when he’s awake…” Tommy shook his head, “and he’s going to wake.”

Diggle stared at the young Merlyn with a level gaze, noting that there was something different about Tommy as if he had come to a conclusion of sorts and nodded sagely, “He’s going to wake.”

Tommy nodded, but Diggle thought it was mostly for his own sanity, or decision, whatever it was, before a chiming noise rang in the silence of the car and Tommy pulled his phone out, “Laurel?!  Thank God I know you were at CNRI-“

“You do know that talking while driving is against the law, right?” Diggle frowned his disapproval, but only received an eye-roll from Tommy as he weaved carefully around more debris, the headlights of his Mercedes the only thing lighting the ground.

“-Yeah…yes, yes…yes.  S-Sure…I think so.  It’s still intact-wait, you want to what?  But the hospitals-  Oh…okay.  Um…yeah, sure.  Yeah…let your father know.  I…I’m glad you’re safe…”

Tommy hung up and his expression became pinched as Diggle saw the familiar visage of Verdant rising up to greet them.  There was still lights peeking out, a sign that the backup generators had kicked in, but how long would the hydro-gasoline generators last was another question.  One he was not inclined to answer at the moment.

“Laurel’s going to have her Dad send survivors to Verdant as a check-in point of sorts.  The Red Cross also wants to set up here since the building’s still structurally intact as are most of the other ones here.”

“ _What_ ,” Diggle stared at Tommy, “but Oliver-“

“What the hell was I supposed to say?  No, you can’t set up here because Oliver’s got the Vigilante’s hideout right underneath?!  People will notice that Verdant is still standing-“

“Fine, fine,” Diggle pinched the bridge of his noise and exhaled noisily.  Oliver was _not_ going to like this when he woke up.  He would also have to warn Felicity _not_ to show herself upstairs any time soon lest Detective Lance put two and two together and came up with they-were-all-screwed.  “At least the basement has a keypad…”

Tommy stopped the car and Diggle opened the door just as the doors to Verdant burst open and Felicity came running out.  “Oh my God, thank God you’re-no…no you’re wounded-“

“Felicity, get the blood packs and surgery tools-“

“O-Oliver…?” she suddenly was very quiet as she peered over Diggle’s shoulder into the cramped passenger seat of the Mercedes.

“He’s going to be fine,” Diggle placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and she numbly nodded before turning away and heading back in.

“Just an IT girl, huh?” Diggle knew that Tommy could not resist commenting on what had just happened and shook his head.

“That’s for Oliver to figure out if he wasn’t being so stubborn,” Diggle replied and Tommy snorted before the two of them lifted Oliver’s unconscious body from the seat and carried him in.

“Yeah, with Laurel…”

He could only shake his head at the reply and knew that it was not his place to tell Oliver who he could fall in love with or pine after, or even hurt with his feelings.  He could only hope that Oliver would slowly realize what he was really doing, even if he was trying to recapture something of his past before the five years of purgatory wiped it away.  This was something between Tommy, Laurel, and Oliver and he was not going to be a part of it.

“I got everything set…” Felicity shadowed them after they descended the stairs and Diggle nodded his approval, “Dig, you’re also wounded-the knife-“

“Is keeping me from bleeding out.  I can help stitch Oliver’s wound, but you will have to help me with mine-“

“Yeah, no problem.  Just like Operation right?” Felicity gave an uneasy grin as Tommy settled Oliver down on the table and stared all around him.  Diggle realized that this was truly Tommy’s first time seeing the whole Vigilante set up Oliver had going on, the incident with Detective Lance storming in and discovering a wine cellar not withstanding.

“Tommy you might want to get upstairs and head off the incoming storm as best as possible,” Diggle grimaced as he washed his hands as best as he could and put on surgical gloves.

“Storm?  What storm?”

“The Red Cross and overflow from the local hospitals in StarlingCity want to set up here since Verdant and surrounding buildings are still standing.  I…gave my okay since it was Laurel asking,” Tommy rubbed his face tiredly, absently streaking the nearly dried blood from his cut over his jaw.

“Felicity, don’t head up any time soon, or if you do, go a different way and pretend you’ve arrived at Verdant.  Detective Lance will probably be helping coordinate efforts here,” Diggle added as he unzipped Oliver’s main outfit and started to strip the ruined clothes from his body.

“Yeah…I kind of got that when he was helping disable the device,” the young blonde IT girl nodded as she too washed her hands and put on surgical gloves before moving to help him.

“Mr. Diggle-“

“Oliver will make it out of this alive,” he shot the young Merlyn a quick smile before Tommy nodded, receiving the message as he headed back up the stairs.  It was only after the door closed behind them that Diggle turned back and shook his head, “now’s the hard part…”

                                    *                      *                      *

As soon as the door closed behind him, Tommy Merlyn leaned against it heavily, the shock of it all finally catching up to him.  He closed his eyes and scrubbed his face heavily, stopping only as he felt a flash of pain near his cheekbone, reminding him of what had just happened.  His best friend was downstairs, possibly bleeding, dying, he did not know aside from the fact that the bleeding wound was in the region near his heart.  His father was a mass murderer, a vigilante, or rather, a version of Ollie’s Vigilante, and was willing to do _anything_ to make sure the Glades were leveled…all in his mother’s name.  It was…

Tommy grimaced again as he felt bile coming up and hurried over to the nearest trash can before throwing up.  The wash of burning alcohol coming back up his throat nearly made him gag, but he managed to keep the rest of the contents in his stomach intact, too used to waking up with hangovers or even drinking himself under a table.  He spit once, clearing his mouth of the rancid taste before grabbing a bottle of sparkling water nearby and drained half of the contents in one gulp, letting the bubbling carbonation settle his stomach some more.

He felt sick, not physically, but mentally.  How could his father…how could-  And even Ollie-  He slid down to the cold ground, bottle still in hand as he shook his head.  In the span of twenty-four hours, his world was turned upside down…Laurel…Ollie…his father…what was…what did it mean?

He did not know how long he had been sitting on the ground before a sudden loud bang on the doors of Verdant made Tommy jump a little as he looked up dumbly towards them.  He wondered for a second who in this time of night would be banging on the doors before he realized that it was also the time that Verdant was usually open, full of party going crowds and music.  However, with the east side of the Glades in ruin…

The frantic banging came again and he scrambled to his feet, stumbling towards the door before he heard Laurel’s muffled voice through the door.  “Tommy, Tommy?!  It’s Laurel-“

He yanked the door open and saw Laurel, a few cuts on her face, but otherwise hale and healthy looking and before anything else was registering in his mind, he reached out and hugged her tightly, splashing some of the sparkling water he still had in his hand.  “Thank God, you’re all right…thank God…”

“Tommy…” he heard his name on her lips and buried his head in her shoulder, tears nearly springing to his eyes.  He was only interrupted by the very familiar sound of a throat clearing and broke apart from Laurel to see Detective Lance with a stony look on his face.

“It’s not beer,” he hastily gestured to the bottle he had in his hand, “though I probably can use several shots after…after my f-father-“

“Yeah, we can talk about that later,” the detective narrowed his eyes and Tommy stiffened a little at the implications.  “We’ve got a lot of incoming wounded and we’ll have to sort the place out-“

“You’re wounded!” Laurel suddenly interrupted and Tommy felt her hand gently brushing the cut he had received from his father.

“It’s nothing,” he grasped her fingers and smiled grimly, “it’s really nothing, just a cut.”  Turning to the detective, he could already see beyond him several groups of flashlights bouncing along the ground and people walking towards Verdant.  Beyond them, the smoke and fires of the quake’s destruction of the Glades was evident.  “All right, I can get some of the temporary folding tables out that we used when we were initially setting up the place.  Got ladders and everything-“

“How much gas do you have?” Lance asked as he parted a little to let them in.

“Gas?”

“For the generators?”

“Uh…I’m not too sure.  I’ll have to check in the manager’s office-hopefully Ollie didn’t change the locks on me-“

“Do that.  I’m going to get some backup here and set up an organized perimeter so we don’t have a mob scene-“

“I told the rest of the CNRI office staff to meet us here, so they can probably help set up the different sections-“

“We have water on tap-“

“Nope, can’t trust tap water right now with the pipelines potentially being compromised,” Lance shook his head, “go down to your secret lair after you’re done checking the fuel and get all of the bottled water, sparkling, whatever, and bring them up here.  We’re going to have a lot of thirsty people soon.”

Tommy nodded before heading towards the stairs to the manager’s office.  Relieved that the key still worked, he opened it up and closed the door behind him, noting that several groups of people were already being let in, Laurel directing them to the different corners.  There was someone running towards the bar before a shout from Laurel stopped the woman and she sheepishly turned around before heading towards her area.  This was going to be a bit of a nightmare if the drinks were still there.  At least he could hope that if those drinks were out, then there was a lot more downstairs in case they needed to restock.

He logged into the computer and checked the status of the hybrid hydro-gasoline generators, kind of glad that Ollie had opted for them instead of gas generators.  The gas lines were probably broken or compromised and it was the saving grace that nothing had busted the fuel tanks out back.  He made a mental note to ask Detective Lance to station at least several officers by the tanks to make sure no enterprising looter would steal the gas from there.  The news had already shown that besides people panicking and running from the Glades, there were those that stayed behind to loot the empty stores, thinking they could get away with robbery.

He heard a muffled squeal and peered out to see Thea and her boyfriend Roy coming in with a throng of people, all whom huddled together.  Thea had launched herself at Laurel and was hugging her; oblivious to her own bruises and cuts on her face and hands.  Her boyfriend Roy Harper looked even worst and was coughing a little into the sleeve of his dirtied hoodie.  He saw Laurel move over to the bar reaching behind to hand Roy a bottle of sparkling water before shoving several into Thea’s arms.  There was a brief flash of momentary confusion on Thea’s face before she realized what she was supposed to do and nodded.

It was also a reminder to him of his second task and he hurried out of the office, locking the door behind him before descending the stairs.  Luckily Thea did not see him, or if she did, did not have a chance to call his name out as he made his way towards the locked door of Verdant’s basement and hurried in.  He did not want to answer anyone’s questions at the moment…

“Mr. Diggle, we’ve got a slight problem,” he said as he descended the stairs, “Thea’s just arrived with her boyfriend, and I’m pretty sure she’s going to be asking about Oliver.”

“Noted,” Diggle’s voice sounded a little breathless and Tommy saw that he was wincing at the ministrations of Felicity who looked a little queasy, but continued to stitch him up.

“Where’s Oliver?” for a moment Tommy dreaded to hear that his best friend had died on the operating table, but that moment passed as Diggle gestured towards the back with his free hand.

“Sleeping it off,” he said, “Oliver created a small apartment of sorts in case any of us needed to stay overnight or something.”

“Oh…” Tommy knew there was more than what Diggle was saying, but did not press the issue.  Something else had also caught his gaze, “Is that-“

“One of the Dark Archer’s arrows, yes.  Ollie wanted to study it after his first two encounters with the Dark Archer.  He kind of woke up briefly in the middle of surgery and said something about switching the blood from the arrows.  I don’t really know why, but if he really woke himself up after stabbing himself in the chest with his own arrow to tell us that I’m not going say no.  I’m almost done with the process.”

“Oh…well…um…” Tommy gulped a little, feeling a little more than sick himself before he steadied his breathing, “where did Oliver keep the bottles of water?”

“Back, a whole lot of boxes there.  He’s even got MREs…” Felicity commented absently as she concentrated on her work.

“Better not reveal those yet…Detective Lance will probably think I’m the Vigilante,” his poor attempt at humor fell flat as no one answered before he sheepishly ducked his head and headed towards the area that Felicity indicated.

As he passed by the impressive looking rack of arrows, all pointed as if to ward away an intruder, he saw the area that Oliver had been moved to and noted how…homey it looked.  It certainly looked comfortable and Tommy briefly wondered if Oliver had spent a lot of nights here when he was not at the mansion.  He had heard from the servants gossiping after Oliver had initially been back that he had taken to sleeping on the floor with the windows open, letting himself be exposed to the elements…at how _wild_ he had become.

Maybe this was a place of refuge for Oliver whom Tommy could now clearly see was not coping with being back in civilization.  Sure there was the semblance of coping, the slightly forced friendly smiles when he was trying to be “normal”, but it was an act.  Even though he had said that he was trying to help the city, trying to do what needed to be done, it was not _right_.

“Ow!” Diggle’s shout echoed across the cavernous room broke Tommy out of his thoughts as he moved past Oliver’s prone form and back towards his task at hand.  At least he could keep focus for the next hour or so…instead of dealing with whatever was happening down here or even up at the rooftop of Merlyn Global.

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            As of right now I have somewhat of a plan for this story, but not exactly concrete.  It may change as Season 2 premieres, but I really wanted Tommy back alive.  I love writing him…


	2. Signs and Portents

Arrow: Objects in Motion

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Disclaimer:**

Arrow and all characters do not belong to me; they belong to CW, Greg Berlanti, Marc Guggenheim, and Andrew Kreisberg.

 

**Story:**

 

_Chapter 2 – Signs and Portents_

 

Waking up after an injury was always the most vulnerable time, and so Oliver had quickly learned the art of reaching out with his senses before anyone else could realize that he had woken.  It had been instilled into him by Yao Fei, by Shado, but most of all by Slade.  He made sure his breathing was still the same, that there was no eye movement, not even a blink, which was a telltale sign.  His muscles were infinitely relaxed in their position as he stretched his sense of touch across his skin to _feel_ where he was before registering the rough cloth of a military fold-out cot and a light blanket placed on top of his body.  The firm supple leathers and pads of his outfit had been replaced by the familiar cotton-wool blend of his training pants.

That was his first sign that he was safe, that someone knew which pants he preferred and also that they had stripped him of his bloodied ruined outfit to not let him catch a chill.  His second sign was the familiar quiet tapping sound of a keyboard followed by occasional clicks from a mouse in the far distance, muffled by what he knew in his mind’s eye to be a sectioned off area of the basement that he had been converting into a studio of sorts.

Still he extended his senses further out, catching the quiet hitch of breath that was Diggle – he had been wounded – he remembered, but since he had a hitching breath instead of a labored one meant that he had been stitched up.  From Felicity, he heard nothing, but knew she was there with the tapping of her keyboard.  He would never tell her, but she had the potential of masking her own presence by her natural stealth, not even a wheezing breath – but it was usually ruined by some other activity she was doing, whether it happened to be typing on a keyboard or trying to pull herself out of an awkward conversation.

He tuned his senses towards the area around him and felt the vibrating hum of the backup generators going strong, the familiar muffled roar of the water that fell from an old wheel he had originally discovered belonged to a wheelhouse where the building now stood.  It had been a functioning water wheel, so Oliver had incorporated into his backup electricity project when he had built the basement before starting on Verdant itself.

Content that all was well, Oliver finally drew his senses back onto himself and opened his eyes, his inner clock telling him that he had been out for only a few hours…which was surprising considering where he had been shot.  It was only then that he grimaced as he opened his mouth a little to _taste_ the bitterness in his tongue and on the roof of his mouth that he realized Diggle had sensibly given him some of Yao Fei’s super herbs after stitching him up.  It had immediately lowered the inflammation, boosted his immune response, helped jump start the healing process.

He gingerly sat up, wincing at the tightness of the bandages wrapped around his shoulder and torso; noting that Diggle had put his left arm in a sling to keep him from swinging it around and potentially ripping the stitching and doing more damage to his left pectoral muscle.  There was pain, but Oliver knew he could work through it.  He needed more rest, but he was never inclined to just lie around when he had awakened.  If his body had deemed him healthy enough to wake, then he would do so and help as best as he could.

Life on the island for five years taught him to be mobile, even with serious injuries.  A wounded _animal_ for the lack of a better word was a _dead_ animal.  A wounded animal that was able to still move was still a predator and he had long learned to be a predator on that island of purgatory.

Standing up, he felt a brief moment of dizziness, but it was gone just as quickly as he grabbed his familiar light grey hoodie hanging off of a chair and put on one sleeve while letting the other hang a bit awkwardly over his sling.  He zipped it up as best as he could, he felt a little better and warmer as he rounded the divider that separated the facsimile attempt at an apartment and the rest of the lair.  He saw Felicity sitting at her station, the glow of the computer monitors giving her an eerie looking halo of sorts as she typed away.

“Hey…” he greeted softly and saw her turn a bit, her eyes widening a bit in surprise before her face broke out in a wide grin.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” she teased back, “you’re awake.”

“So it seems,” he was about to shrug when the sharp pain from his shoulder stopped him from his movement and settled for a grimacing smile, “where’s Dig- _ah_ …”  He had spotted his friend lounging on one of the chairs to the side, seemingly engrossed in another computer before he had apparently fallen asleep in front of it.  A quilt was draped over his sleeping form, more than likely courtesy of Felicity.

“He’s been looking up the latest satellites of the Glades,” Felicity explained as he wandered over to her and peered over her shoulder to see what she was working on, “and I’m just helping Detective Lance collate the tweets and emergency services, behind several firewalls of course.  Oh, fair warning, Tommy’s got Verdant as home base for the Red Cross and the SCPD and probably FEMA too judging by the recent tweets.”

“Tweets?”

“Twitter,” Felicity explained, “you know…one-hundred forty characters about a status?  It’s like facebook, except a lot faster and easier to hashtag something-“

“I think I got it,” Oliver still did not quite get what she meant, but judging by the constantly updating feed on the sidebar of her screen, he supposed there were worst things in the advent of social media that he had missed for the last five years.  He had been getting the hang of the latest technology courtesy of Thea’s constant ribbing of him, but some things still eluded him.

“Tommy’s here?” he vaguely remembered Tommy running across Merlyn Global’s rooftops to kneel by his father’s body, but that was about it.

“Yeah,” Felicity’s smile dropped a little, “Laurel apparently called him after she got out of CNRI-“

“Laurel was at CNRI?!” Oliver’s heart nearly stopped at that before he shook his head.  Trust Laurel to try to save the most important casefiles and also warn her co-workers to get out of the earthquake zone when all hell was breaking loose.

“She’s fine, a bit bruised from what Tommy said, but she’s fine Oliver,” Felicity continued, “and I guess after Detective Lance escaped the tunnels, they realized that Verdant and its surrounding buildings by the docks were all structurally sound so they’ve set up a check-in point here.”

Oliver nodded absently to himself before he realized he needed to thank Felicity for her part in all of this, “Thank you, Felicity.  I…know it was hard for you-“

“Oliver, I don’t need thanks, I mean, I do like it, but it’s something anyone would have done to save this city,” she interrupted him again before handing him a small rectangular object that he realized was an energy-protein bar.  “Here, before I forget, Dig told me to give it to you after you woke up.  You…lost a lot of blood again…”

“Sorry,” he looked away as he took the bar and ate it quickly, “didn’t mean-“

“It’s okay,” she laughed a little and to Oliver it sounded very bitter, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve operated on you before and Dig did say it was like Operation, except no bullets this time, at least that was the good part about it.”

“Felicity, it was either me or him,” a part of him always regretted roping Felicity into all of this, but there was really no one else he could trust back then.  Even now…especially now with Laurel…Tommy…  He wanted to say more, to reassure her, but at the same time he knew that it would be a lie and there were far more lies he needed to tell others.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her fidget as if to say something, but then quieted and looked away.

“It’s on the table over there if you want to look at it.  I managed to transfer at least ninety percent of the blood from your arrow onto his, though I had to use up one of your blood packets to make sure the blood stuck.  It’s a bit hard to get off when it’s crusted over and it needed to look like you had stabbed him with it…” she trailed off as she drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  It was only when she drew in another deep breath that Oliver realized she was silently crying and turned back to face her.

“…Felicity?”

“Please,” she kept staring at the table where the two arrows were resting upon, “don’t…don’t do that again, okay?  I mean…I know it was personal and he needed to be stopped, but please…don’t do that again.”

 “I-“

Whatever he was about to say was cut off as Felicity suddenly pushed her chair back and stood up, her head still bowed a little and turned away from him.  “I’m feeling a bit tired, sorry,” she quickly mumbled before walking away from him and rounding the divider, leaving him staring at the spot where she usually sat.

He stood in silence for a few minutes before Diggle’s rumbling voice spoke up from where he was supposed to be sleeping, “She cares about you Oliver…”

“I think that’s obvious,” he half-glared over to Diggle’s unmoving form, noting that the man’s eyes were still closed.  Perhaps he had been sleeping and only awakened recently.

“I know you’ve got a thing with Laurel, but she’s also right.  You getting hurt, dying on us, you’re going to hurt a lot of people in the long run and it’s going to be the people that care about you.”

“I’m not giving this up Diggle,” this was not the talk he wanted to have right now, not with his shoulder still aching, still wounded, not with events so recent..

“That’s not what I’m saying, but what I am saying is that you want to keep doing this, you have to remember the consequences,” his bodyguard and friend shifted a little in his chair, “you _will_ leave people behind if you die and they will certainly not take to your death a second time that well.  Just remember, you got Felicity involved and she was willing to walk away from it afterwards, but do you know why she stayed?”

Oliver wanted to say because he knew Felicity was harboring a crush on him, but it was too harsh, too mean, and certainly something he did not want to acknowledge.  He loved Laurel, still loved her.  The fact that Felicity more than likely had a crush on him because of his alter ego was something he knew he would have to nip in the bud soon enough.

“Why?” he asked just to humor Diggle and put a little edge of sarcasm in his tone to make sure Diggle heard it.  He knew his wound was putting him in a bad mood, but he could not help it.

“Same reason I stayed,” Diggle replied and Oliver expected him to say something about the work he was doing out there, helping others, but there was nothing more forthcoming and he sighed in frustration.  His friend apparently heard his sigh as he chuckled lightly, “Still expecting a lecture?”

“You certainly give enough of them,” he took the olive branch for what it was as he crumpled up the wrapper of the bar he had long eaten and tossed it in the nearby trash can, “you okay Dig?”

“Yeah…just need some more sleep that’s all.  I’m surprised you woke up so fast…I mean last time that medication, herbs, whatever knocked you out flat for a while.”

“It…was an island thing.  I think maybe my body’s gotten used to being stabbed through or shot with arrows more than bullets or Vertigo in my system,” he supposed it was true, that had more experience being shot by arrows than by bullets entering his body in those five hellish years.

“Hell of a reaction then,” Diggle conceded before gesturing with his chin, eyes still closed, towards the table where the two arrows laid.  “What are you going to do about those?”

“…I think it’s time Detective Lance gets the truth…” Oliver was glad that Diggle had heeded his finals words before he had passed out as he made his way towards the table and picked up the Dark Archer’s black arrow, feeling the slight squish and crust of blood on his fingers.  It was half dried, exactly as he had expected it to be-

“Wait,” he turned to see Diggle’s eyes snap open, the man half-throwing off his quilt and wincing as he tried to get up, “you’re going to tell him about the Vigilante-“

“I meant, I’m going to tell him that you and I were there trying to stop Merlyn and the Vigilante was involved too,” he realized that his words had been a poor choice and winced in apology as Diggle settled back in his chair, huffing a bit as he rearranged the quilt around himself and rolling his eyes at him.

“This I got to hear,” Diggle groused, “getting an old man up who’s wounded-“

“Sure…you’re old,” he grinned before sobering a little, “I can’t explain this wound, not with the same one on Malcolm Merlyn’s body.  Yours we can explain with the evacuation of the Glades, but it’s better if we just say that you came with me, got disabled by Merlyn-“

“I did…”

“-and then the Vigilante showed up, they fought, but Merlyn ended holding me hostage and I made my move.”

“So what happened to the Vigilante?” Diggle raised an eyebrow, ready to poke holes into his story.

“No idea.  Tommy came and helped us-“

“Why didn’t we go to the hospital?”

“Because there are more wounded people from the destruction of the Glades that need the care more than you or I-“

“Oliver,” Diggle shook his head, “you keep forgetting you’re a Queen.  People expect you to _go_ to the hospital and jump the line.”

Oliver frowned as he pursed his lips as he was about to deny it, but realized it was still true.  He was a Queen and he selfishly would have cut the line by waving some money to make sure one of his friends or family members was giving the best treatment and care.  The excuse that was half formed in his head that he needed to check on Verdant was definitely not going to cut it.  He shook his head, “I don’t know…I…maybe Detective Lance won’t ask too many questions if I give him the arrow…”

Diggle shook his head, “Better hope so Ollie, because it’ll be our heads if he really picks the story apart.  You aren’t that great with lying…”

“No, I’m not…” he agreed, but silently amended that statement.  He was very good at graying the truth, just not at outright lying.

“So, when are you going to do this?” Diggle asked as Oliver gave the arrow an experimental twirl.  The balance on Merlyn’s arrow was exceptional, almost perfect except for a heavier arrowhead than he used.

“Now,” he said and saw Diggle blink in surprise, “what?”

“But-“

“The sooner it’s done, the sooner the alibi can be solid,” he countered before taking a deep breath and letting it out, “get some sleep Dig.  I’ll check upstairs…”

“I hope you’ve figured this one out man,” Diggle murmured as Oliver headed for the stairs.

Reaching the top thankfully did not wind him as much as he thought it would, but he still took a moment to rest a little and stared down at the apartment area, noting that Felicity was lying on the secondary cot across from the one he had been resting upon.  She looked completely at peace while she slept and for a moment Oliver regretted bringing her into all of this…but the moment passed as he reached for the handle of the door and opened it.

A cacophony of noise assaulted him followed by a stale, almost burnt smell as he closed the door behind him.  He saw people huddled together, families, individuals, friends, some of them with blankets around their shoulders, others just sitting on the ground or at the tables, folding chairs, cots laid out.  Many of them had soot and dirt on their faces, some injured and were being cared for, but a majority of the people looked shell-shocked.  A few children cried into their parents, siblings, or other people’s shoulders, while more than a few sung hymns or were holding prayer sessions.

All in all, it was something Oliver thought he would never see in StarlingCity…something he thought he should not see since the island.  As he gently eased his way through the crowds, he tried to see into the manager’s office above it all, to see if Tommy was in there, but the blinds had been drawn down.  He looked back down and thought he saw members of the bratva there, a couple of them wounded, but even some helping others out and the corner of his lips quirked up in a smile.  Even for their ruthlessness, the bratva was perhaps one of the few criminal groups in StarlingCity willing to help out neighbors in need.

“Oh my God…Ollie?  Ollie!” Thea’s voice came from the left of the crowd moments before she burst through and it was only by his quick reflexes, that Oliver flipped the arrowhead downwards and angled it towards his back before Thea leapt upon him.

He grunted in pain as his shoulder protested against Thea’s weight, but managed to half embrace her before she pushed away and looked at him, her dirt-streaked face alight with concern.

“What happened?  Are you okay-Ollie…oh my God, you’re wounded!” Thea’s eyes were rooted to his shoulder and Oliver glanced down to see that a spot of blood started to appear where the sleeve of his hoodie met his bandages.

“I’m-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-“

“Thea, it’s all right-“

“Thea?  Where did you…oh,” Roy Harper suddenly appeared from the crowd, even more disheveled looking, but his head was covered in bandages as was a hand, “uh, hi…”

“Hi,” Oliver grimaced a little as Thea bit her lip.

“Oliver, listen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were wounded-“

“And here’s our reluctant interviewee Mr. Harper-“ Detective Lance emerged from the crowds and immediately stopped, staring at the three of them, “when the hell did you get here Queen?”

“I’ve been downstairs,” he replied mildly, noting that both Laurel and Tommy arriving too.  He saw the surprise in Tommy’s eyes before noting the concern in Laurel’s and smiled briefly at them.

“…Downstairs?” Lance looked faintly shocked.

“Listen, my brother’s obviously wounded, so-“

“You were downstairs,” Lance growled out, “so why the hell-“

“I believe this is the weapon the SCPD may be looking for that was used on Malcolm Merlyn,” Oliver all but avoided everyone’s gaze as he focused on Lance’s steely eyes and brought out the blood-coated arrow.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tommy flinch and Laurel placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“That’s a hell of an admission, Queen,” Lance stared at the arrow as if it was anathema itself.

“Of what?  That myself and Mr. Diggle tried to stop Malcolm Merlyn?  Yes if you want to see it that way,” he extended it towards the detective and saw him recoil a little before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handkerchief before taking the arrow from his fingers.

“You…you went to stop Tommy’s father…” Thea whispered, but Oliver paid no attention to it.

“The Vigilante was there too if you want to know,” Oliver saw Lance flinch and stare at him shrewdly, “arrived after Mr. Diggle and I did.”

“And pray tell where is your bodyguard now?”

“Right here Detective,” Diggle’s voice made him turn a little to see him walking towards them a bit stiffly, his arm in a sling, and face pale and sweaty, “I can verify Oliver’s story.  Oliver wanted to confront Mr. Merlyn about the death of his father and kidnapping of his stepfather.  We tried, only to find out that he’s the Dark Archer or the Vigilante copycat if you will.  The Vigilante probably also had the same idea to stop Malcolm Merlyn, so the two of us tried to stop him.  I was wounded and Mr. Merlyn took Oliver hostage to stop the Vigilante from shooting him.”

“And you…?”

“Did what I had to, to survive five years on the island,” he gestured to the bloodied arrow, “your forensics experts should be able to confirm my blood and DNA along with Merlyn’s blood and DNA on the shaft and arrowhead of the arrow.  If you look at Mr. Merlyn himself, he has nearly the same wound as I have.”

“So how come you didn’t get to a hospital and instead camped out here?” Lance asked, skeptical.

“I knew Thea was going to go to the Glades to try to make sure Roy got out safely.  Malcolm Merlyn had said something about a second device and I wanted to make sure she was safe.  We ran into Tommy and I made him drive us to the Glades-“

“Yeah you passed out halfway there.  I was going to go the hospital, but by then the roads…” Tommy piped up and Oliver was secretly glad for his support of his alibi.

“I still think Mr. Queen here should get his wound checked out by a professional,” Diggle interceded gently, “I mean, everyone in the Army is trained to do some field dressings and wound repair, but it’s not a solid job.  And no offense to Tommy’s attempt at stitching, but please don’t ever become a doctor.”  Diggle smiled faintly as he gestured to his own wound.

“Ha ha,” Tommy forced out a laugh as he coughed and Oliver grimaced at the awkwardness of the situation.

“Well, my guys are still going through the tapes at Merlyn Global and it will take some time to verify your story, even if Merlyn is cooperating and awake, which I don’t think he will be-“

“Malcolm Merlyn’s alive?” Oliver blurted out and saw that Tommy did not look that surprised, but rather looked nauseous.  He realized that the others had already known and had time to cope with the news.

“He was in a coma, but he was alive last time I checked,” Lance had a hard look on his face, “which is good because even though you could have pleaded self-defense, I don’t think an arrowhead through the two of you is going to cut it.”

Oliver thinned his lips at the news before nodding stiffly, “I see.”

“Dad, you can’t be seriously thinking…I mean Oliver practically risked his life to stop the Dark Archer-“ Laurel looked appalled before Oliver held his hand up.

“Its okay, Laurel,” he shook his head, “like your dad says, he needs to verify the story.”

Detective Lance grunted a little at his words before giving him a once over and gesturing with his thumb behind him, “Go get yourself sorted.  I’ll send an officer over to write down both of your statements.”  He gave Tommy a sidelong glance, “And your story too Merlyn.”

“Thanks,” Oliver gave him a grimacing smile before heading towards where he had gestured.

“Ollie…” Thea’s tug at the sleeve of his hoodie made him stop to look back at her.

“I’m all right Thea,” he could see the fear in her eyes as she kept staring at his wound.

“And you mister, you can tell me some more about that robbery you witnessed before you left-“ Detective Lance had already rounded on Harper as Thea looked back to see her boyfriend blink a little at the sudden change of tone from the detective.

“I’ll be fine Thea if you want to stay-“

“No, I’m staying with you.  If you…if you really came to the Glades to look for me-“ she gulped down a breath and tears formed at the corner of her eyes.  “Just let me tell Roy…okay?”

“We’ll be at the Red Cross station,” Oliver saw her nod before she let go of him and hurried to where Detective Lance was leading Harper away to sit him down for his interview.

“I’m…going to get more water from downstairs,” Tommy suddenly said and left without another word.  Oliver watched him disappear into the crowd before Diggle cleared his throat and moved away, no doubt to leave him some privacy with Laurel who was left.

“Did you really…?” Laurel stared at the bleeding red patch on his hoodie before looking up at him.

“Yes…” he smiled sadly, “I did…I…was so angry.  I didn’t…”

“I’m glad you’re alive.  I don’t know what I would have done if you died…again…” she gently placed two fingers on the patch, but did not press on it.  Oliver reached out and grasped the fingers into his own free hand and smiled sadly.

“I know…I know I said I wanted to be with you, but right now…”

“Don’t let revenge cloud your mind Ollie,” she looked up at him, “it nearly cost you your life and you got it-“

“I know, but Malcolm Merlyn is still alive-“

“And the courts will deal with him,” she shook her head, “I didn’t realize how close I was to losing you again.”

Oliver squeezed her fingers gently before releasing them.  He did not know what to say to her after that.  He wanted to say that he would not go anywhere again, but with the revelation that Malcolm Merlyn still alive, it meant that everyone was in danger should the courts fail.  And they had failed on more than one occasion.  Cyrus Vance was the most recent proof.  And even so, he did not trust that Merlyn was working independently.  He had to have had contacts somewhere to pull of such a huge operation under everyone’s noses.  Even with his mother’s betrayal and use of Queen Consolidated’s resources…

Merlyn knew his secret and if the justice system failed…Laurel would be the first one targeted and he could not afford to lose her.  He _would not_ lose her…

Instead he said, “Let me get checked over and we can talk later, all right?”

“Sure,” she smiled faintly before he left her standing alone in the crowd.

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            The title of this story and chapter titles are variations or direct copies of my favorite TV show _Babylon_ _5_.  I also like to thank those who have given kudos or reviewed my story – thank you for your support!


	3. Survivors

Arrow: Objects in Motion

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Disclaimer:**

Arrow and all characters do not belong to me; they belong to CW, Greg Berlanti, Marc Guggenheim, Andrew Kreisberg, and DC Comics.

 

**Story:**

 

_Chapter 3 – Survivors_

 

Tommy wished he could dive behind the bar at Verdant and fix himself a very strong drink.  But it would only invite everyone within view to start asking for drinks and he had no inclination to play bartender.  Instead, he had excused himself and was now hurrying down the stairs of Verdant’s basement.  He stopped near the last few steps and paused, closing his eyes as he took in a deep breath and released it.  Oliver always made things so complicated and now he had to think of a bullshit excuse for him to get out of being suspected as the Vigilante again.

It was not like he wanted to help, but at the same time, he did not know why he had opened his mouth to support the story concocted for Detective Lance.  As far as he knew, it was perjury if brought before a court and exposed for what it was, yet…  He shook his head as he opened his eyes and continued down the last few steps.  And Laurel…

“My life is so complicated,” he mumbled mostly to himself before laughing bitterly into the silence of the basement.  He sounded just like a teenager complaining on facebook.

“You, didn’t have to stitch _him_ back up,” the slightly slurred voice of Felicity mumbled from behind the partition and he looked towards it to see her hunched over one of the two cots, turning the stem of a mostly empty wine glass in her hands.

“Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” he walked over towards the partition and peered in between it to see that the wine bottle was at least half-empty; or half-full if he was more of an optimist he supposed.

“It’s one a.m.  I think I’m allowed at least half a bottle right?” she peered up at him, squinting past the glasses perched on her nose.

“Then give me the other half,” he took the wine bottle by the neck and chugged at least two mouthfuls, swallowing and coughing as the alcohol burned all the way down while quickly hitting him at the same time.  Blinking, he stumbled a little as he tried to set the bottle back before righting himself.  Laurel loved wine and while he was a social drinker, he really much preferred his hard liquor if only because the wine really hit him faster than anything else.

Felicity giggled drunkenly before shaking her head and then stopped, holding the heel of her hand to one eye as she squinted in pain.  “Ow…shouldn’t have done that.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” Tommy did not feel drunk enough, but at least the wine gave him the buzz he had been craving for since he had arrived at Verdant.  However, he could see that Felicity definitely did not need anything else to drink and put the cork back onto the rather expensive wine that she had opened up before putting it on a dresser of sorts at the far side of the little studio area.

She sighed and stared at the rest of the wine that was leftover in her glass, “Yeah…but I certainly don’t feel like I had enough.”

Perhaps it was the buzz that he had from the alcohol, or maybe it was something inside of him wanting to ask someone else about Oliver’s nightly activities, but Tommy leaned against the dresser and hung his head.  “Why…why do you do this?”

“This?” Felicity sounded confused as he stared at the wood paneling on the dresser, but did not quite study it.

“This, this-“ he gestured with a free hand towards the area where he had seen the arrows and computer set up.  “All of this!  Why do you help him?  He’s a _murderer_.”

“Guess that makes me an accessory to murder,” Felicity grumbled and Tommy opened his mouth to snap at her before she heaved another sigh.  “Maybe I have an inner sadist, or maybe it’s something else, but his body count is a lot lower since Diggle came aboard and then when I arrived…”

“Yeah right,” Tommy snorted.  He could not believe that the so-callled ‘body count’ was lowered.

“I first told him that I was helping him only to find Walter.  After that, all bets were off,” her voice sounded muffled and he turned his head to see her ducking her head into her sweater.  Even with the early heat wave that always heralded the arrival of summer in StarlingCity, the basement of Verdant was surprisingly cool.

“You stayed,” he said flatly.

“I stayed,” she agreed as she sipped more of her wine, “God only knows why.  I’d like to say it was because we figured out a lot of what was happening with the earthquake machine and the Glades being the target, but…”  She shook her head, her ponytail swinging back and forth, “I can’t justify what he does to you Tommy.  I know you’re asking those questions because I asked myself the same ones.  Why am I helping someone who indiscriminately kills people, even if they are small time drug dealers, murderers, those that game the system…”

She finished the rest of the wine in the glass and placed it gently on top of a small end table near her cot, “I don’t really know what Ollie was like before the island, but I do know that he’s trying to help others, even if it means he’s a murderer.  No one should die, not even the ones gaming the system, but I’m hoping, just hoping that maybe Dig and I can turn Ollie’s self-destructive tendencies towards eventually not killing people.”

That got Tommy’s attention, “Self-destructive tendencies?”

“You really think someone who’s spent so much time alone wants to dress up in a costume to fight crime?” Felicity shook her head, looking at him, “Ollie’s got a mission Tommy, and even if it means taking out the worst of the criminal underworld, he will go down with him.  He will never say it out loud, but he knows that he’s just as bad as them.  So he feels a sense of responsibility to go out there and take them out.  Maybe he’s waiting for someone to take him out, but he believes if he makes a difference and dies with it, maybe he can atone for whatever mistakes he thinks he’s made in his life.”

“H-How…how do you know this?” it was hard to believe that Felicity could be so perceptive that even he did not pick up on Oliver’s actions.

“No one who wants to _survive_ would stab themselves through with an arrow to take down the person that had nearly killed him before,” she stared at him with a leveled gaze, all traces of drunkenness in her eyes gone.  “He could claim that he was surviving, but in actuality, I think he stopped surviving the moment he returned from the island.”

Tommy did not know what else to say with that revelation, but at the same time, he wanted to deny those words.  Oliver never had a death wish – that just wasn’t possible.  He had grown up with him after all and he _knew_ his best friend.  Yet…

_“I don’t even know who he is,” he said to Detective Lance as he watched his father being wheeled into the ambulance.  The gala in honor of his father’s humanitarian efforts had turned into something else entirely_.

But did it justify Oliver being a murderer?  He had killed so many, had claimed to try to protect those he loved, but Tommy could count on one hand in the past year how many times he had been nearly gunned down by psychopathic assassins, see the results of someone kidnapping Laurel, was captured and tranquilized by thugs in horrible red masks, and even see his own father gunned down by a sniper.  And now…to learn everything…

“Are you going to say that it’s up to me now?” Tommy asked Felicity, but the threat was hollow.

“Frankly, I think I’m already on the Detective’s shit list.  If it wasn’t for Ollie’s call regarding the earthquake device, I probably would be sitting in a jail cell.  I guess I’m not that great of a hacker if I can’t remember to cover my own tracks from time to time,” she smiled, her voice tinged with bitterness.  “My only saving grace right now is that the SCPD is dealing with this and more interested in restoring order than to prosecute the IT girl who’s been helping the Vigilante.”

“There’s Thea to consider…and the rest of the Queen Consolidated employees,” his time working under his father had oddly made him more aware of the employees that Merlyn Global employed, having commuted to the office on a day-to-day basis.  If Oliver was exposed as the Vigilante, then the employees of Queen Consolidated, no matter what, would be considered suspect in any future job applications due to their association with the company.

Even now with Moira’s confession, the employees, especially those who had been with the company for a long time; if they were to look for a new job, it would be disastrous.  There was not an official black list for such companies, after all labor laws put that to bed, but the court of public opinion sometimes overrode the written laws.

Laurel would probably be one of the few to escape this whole thing unscathed in the public eye, but amongst her friends, she would be a pariah – especially for dating the two men who were scions to their respective family companies.  Poor Thea would be scrutinized and vilified by the public along with the rest of the Queen family.  Even Walter Steele who had recently served Moira with divorce papers would come under scrutiny, the media pundits probably speculating whether his divorce meant that he knew what was happening and perhaps even faked his own kidnapping.

“I can’t…” he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, “it’s too complicated…and Ollie roped me into his bullshit story to the Detective…”

“You didn’t have to agree.  He specifically said to Dig that he was going to say he forced you to come here,” Felicity shrugged, “I was pretending to sleep after Ollie woke up.”

“He’s my best friend…former best friend…ahhhh, I don’t know!”

“Just…think on it, okay?  Dig and I have our own reasons for helping him, but I can tell you that even he keeps secrets from us.  Maybe, maybe you can be the person he talks to since he won’t ever tell Laurel.”

Tommy snorted, “Yeah, Laurel…”  He pushed himself away from the dresser and turned to politely thank her but stopped as he saw a hesitant expression her face.  “What?”

“I know you and Oliver have your differences regarding Laurel, and it’s _definitely_ _not_ my place to tell you about your complicated love lives, but maybe you could be the one to tell Oliver not to abandon the others whenever Laurel’s in trouble?”

He stared at her, a surge of unexpected anger rising within him at her callous words.  Just when he had thought she was insightful and considerate…  How dare she-

“Oliver doesn’t think straight whenever Laurel’s in trouble and from what I know, Laurel’s job forces her into positions that I know her dad, Oliver, and even you don’t like her to be in, but, I’m just saying…” Felicity wrung her hands, “I’m sorry, really sorry, I know I shouldn’t have said that-“

Tommy shook her head, tamping down on his anger.  It was not his place to snap at Felicity, for all that she had done, yet at the same time, he cursed her insightfulness for actually seeing what he had been trying to _tell_ Laurel all this time.  It was partially one of the many reasons he had broken it off with her, Oliver hooking up with Laurel not withstanding.  He knew how much CNRI meant to her, but some of her clients were up against the worst scumbags of StarlingCity and the events of this past year just proved that danger followed Laurel around more than how Oliver sought out danger.

At the same time, he could not help but admire her courage in the face of the danger and her unshaken resolve to see justice done to those who had harmed her clients.  It was one of the first things that made him attracted to her.  She had the qualities that he wished he had instead of running away from the elephantine problem in the room – his father.

“I’ll…think about it,” he said quietly as Felicity nodded numbly.  He shook his head inwardly as he left the studio and went to grab more water for the others upstairs.  He did not know whether he could support Oliver in his crusade against those who had harmed StarlingCity, but at the same time, he also knew that he could not turn his best friend into the authorities.  It was the worst Catch-22 if ever…

                                    *                      *                      *

Tommy did not realize he had been gone long, but when he emerged from the basement once more, securely locking the door behind him, he was surprised to see that Verdant had cleared at least half of the population out.  Juggling the two crates of water in his hands, he made his way over to the main Red Cross table and placed them down to the grateful nod of one of the nurses on duty.  “Is…everything okay?” he asked, looking around.

“We started to direct those who weren’t terribly injured to a different warehouse where they can use it as a shelter area for the time being since this is mostly the check-in point,” the nurse replied, a middle-aged woman with black hair that was starting to just grey.

“That’s good,” he glanced beyond her towards the small partitions set up for medical beds and tented areas where some light surgery were going on.  Many of the more seriously injured people had already been immediately shipped off to local area hospitals as well as air lifted to other city hospitals judging by the sound of rotors that buzzed the area once in a while.  Where the helicopters found a place to land was beyond him, but Tommy figured it was best that way.

“I just wanted to thank you on behalf of some of my colleagues here for lending us Verdant’s space.  I know that it’s normally open for business hours right now, but thank you,” the nurse spoke up, “and no matter what the press is saying about your father, you’re still good in my book, young man.  You and Mr. Queen.”

“Err…thanks,” he scratched the back of his head, unsure of what to say after that, “um…do you know…?”

“Over there-“

“Hey!  Don’t you go blaming Susan and my kid for this you asshole!” the sudden shout of a man from one of the tents was followed by a crashing sound before two men suddenly threw punches at each other, tipping over a medical cart as well as damaging some of the partitions.

Screams and shouts of surprise erupted in the area and Tommy reacted on instinct, rushing over, noting some of the stationed police officers also rushing to stop the brawl between two burly men.

“Adam!  Stop!” a woman shouted as she rushed out of the ruined partition, trying to force herself to stop the brawl.  She was followed by a small child who also tried to wedge himself in between the two fighters.

“Hey!”  Tommy reached the group and grabbed the two fighters by their arms, “break it up!  This is a Red Cross center!  Not your own playground!”  He managed to grip the arm of one and shove him off of the other man, but just barely as the two backed off, the woman and child also standing by, all of them out of breath.

“He started it!” one of the two men wiped his bloody lip, cursing underneath his breath at the blood on his hands before glaring at the other, “and who the fuck are you to interfere-“

“You’re Tommy Merlyn,” the other man interrupted staring at him with eyes that seem to smolder with hate and Tommy had an extremely bad feeling as the others within hearing vicinity turned to stare at the altercation.  Even some of the police officers who had arrived to help stop the brawl had paused, their hands going to the butts of their guns, but they did not draw it.  Tommy did not want to know whether or not they would try to shoot him or shoot the once-brawling men who were now staring at him with something akin to mutual hate in their eyes.

“Listen-“ he held his hands up in an effort to get them to back down.

“Your family’s apparently responsible for all of this, yeah?” the man who had identified him growled, “so maybe I shouldn’t be blaming Joe here, but you, right?”

“Uh-“ he dared not take his eyes off of either man or the slightly growing crowd of curious on-lookers, or were they going to join in this impromptu lynch mob, he did not know.  As far as he had known, everyone knew that Verdant was owned by Oliver Queen and managed, until recently, by Tommy Merlyn, but he supposed that he had put himself unobtrusively out of sight since people had begun to arrive that others had not noticed him until now.

He really was not a fighter, and it really looked like the two men could go straight through him like wet paper…and that thought was not pleasant.  It certainly didn’t help the recent buzz of wine in his system making him a bit queasy.

“Oh shit,” he breathed under his breath as the first man suddenly moved to throw a punch and tried to duck-

Only to find the man’s fist caught in a very firm, tight grip in Oliver’s right hand as he appeared out of nowhere, standing protectively in front of Tommy.  He gaped at the sight and watched, horrified and oddly fascinated as he could literally hear the bones creak in the man’s fist as Oliver slowly crushed it to pieces.  This close to his face, he could see the minute shaking of the fist and the cold, eerily steady one that was Oliver’s.

“Don’t even think about it,” Oliver’s voice was cool and calm as he stared at the man who threw the punch, “this is not the man you want to fight.”

“Why?!” the other man replied, pain evident in his voice, “it’s his family-“

“It was his _father_ , whom Tommy here had no contact since he was eight.  His father, not him, who was responsible for this,” Oliver continued as if he was holding a normal conversation and Tommy cautiously straightened as he saw Diggle appear at the edge of the group, unobtrusively holding the other man in place to prevent him from throwing any punches.

“Yeah well how about yourself, Mr. _Queen?!_ ” the man sneered, but in the end was grimacing.  Just how tight was Oliver holding onto the man’s fist, Tommy had to wonder?

“I can be blamed for it, after all, I was given a position within my family’s company and rejected it,” Oliver replied calmly as if nothing was wrong, “yes, I could have stopped it, but instead I ran away.  I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to-ow-“ Oliver finally released the man’s fist and he stepped back, shaking it out, “isn’t going to cut it rich boy.  Not when you and cake eater over there can just waltz in and out of here like nothing matters-“

“You’re right, we can do that.  But I’m asking you _not_ to blame Tommy.  If you know Tommy, you know what he lost a long time ago.  He’s lost his parents and a lot more for a long time now.  He’s only trying to help,” Oliver continued and Tommy grimaced.  He did not _want_ anyone’s pity, but at the same time he could not help but listen to the words that Oliver said.  They were certainly _very_ persuasive and Tommy realized that Oliver really did not know how to lie, but rather, knew how to grey the truth and to occasionally gild it with gold.  It was creepily fascinating as he recalled the times he had heard Ollie outright lie versus the times he had told a version of the truth.

“We don’t need charity from you Queen, or your little buddy there Merlyn.  We want justice-“

“And you will get it,” Oliver interrupted in earnest, “just don’t blame the children for their parents’ sins.”

“Or the abandoning of their parents?” the other brawler, Joe, Tommy vaguely remembered, at least he thought his name was Joe spoke up, his voice dark and Oliver turned, staring at the other man for a long moment before nodding.  “Fine then,” he shook off Diggle’s grip on his arms, “fine then.  We’ll let justice run their course, but don’t forget Queeny-boy, you’ll get what’s coming to you, if the Hood has anything to say about it.  You and all of your one-percenter friends.”

It took far greater amount of effort that Tommy realized _not_ to laugh at that statement as the crowd started to disperse.  He reached out to stop Oliver to grudgingly talk to him, but his friend moved away before he could say anything, his left arm now in a sling.  The fact that Oliver was able to stop the man with just one move, even injured, surprised him as he saw him talking with a small heavyset man who had a wrinkled face, but sharp blue eyes.  He looked Slavic, but Tommy wasn’t quite sure from his vantage point as he saw Oliver gesture before the Slavic man looked at him.

He recoiled at the sharp blue gaze and made to look elsewhere, but then the man’s eyes returned to Oliver before he nodded several times and the two shook hands.

“Oliver-“ Tommy started, but his friend moved off without another word, leaving Tommy standing there.

                                    *                      *                      *

It was by the reckoning of lightened clouds and the first peaks of a midnight night sky giving way to lighter purple and blue hues that Tommy finally had a chance when he wandered outside to physically check the hydro-fuel generators.  He found Oliver standing by one of the gauges, staring at it as if it was the most fascinating thing ever and saw his friend start a little at his approach, treading gravel with each step.

“Did you sleep?” Oliver asked quietly as he tapped the gauge several times, but otherwise did not turn to face him.

“Can you sleep?” Tommy countered as turned to face the bay and marina where Verdant was located near.

“Not really,” Oliver had turned and joined him in watching the sun slowly make its presence known, “not after…”

“How’s the shoulder?” he asked, feeling awkward.

“Better.  The doctors re-stitched it after getting a portable MRI and x-ray on it.  It’s now happily numb…or at least I’ve been taking painkillers to make it numb,” he wriggled his fingers and wrist in his sling.

“Don’t forget, no raiding Verdant’s alcohol stash,” he joked, wincing at the forced humor, but Oliver chuckled lightly at the joke and memory.  The two of them had experimented with drug-alcohol combination and while it gave a strangely pleasant buzz, it was also trippy as heck and was one of the many things swept under the rug by both families.

“I gave Thea access to the manager’s office so she can sleep in peace,” Oliver continued, “Roy’s outside the door.”

“Big brother instinct,” he knew Oliver would disapprove of any boyfriend of Thea’s, but during the brief time he had employed Roy Harper, he happened to like the young man, even though he was a little…obsessively intense at times.  Plus he kept Thea steady and on the right track, so he could not be all that bad – except for the various small time crime list he had amassed.  “He’s still outside the door last time I walked by.”

“Good,” Oliver growled out.

“Where’s Diggle?”

“Asleep downstairs along with Felicity,” Oliver replied and Tommy nodded and wanted to say that Felicity had some interesting insightful theories on him, but kept that thought to himself.  It was clear that Felicity harbored _something_ towards his friend and while he was all for encouraging her to act on it, he did not want her to get hurt if Oliver ended up rejecting her for Laurel again, like he was always going to do.

“So…”

“So…”

“…Laurel?” Oliver started after a moment of silence.

“Later,” Tommy shook his head, “but thank you, for…earlier with the whole brawl that was about to be stopped and I was about to be pancaked-“

“At least you know how to handle a gun,” Oliver murmured before wincing, “sorry, not the way it was supposed to come out.”

“Yeah,” Tommy rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, “but I think I should probably tell you this before more shit hits fan or whatever.  I…I can’t accept the Vigilante-“

“Tommy-“

“You’re a murderer Oliver.  I know that I don’t have the right to tell you that and I don’t know what you went through on the island, and I know it hurts you to keep it a secret from others, but…it’s something that I can’t accept, not right now.  Just…don’t ask me to do that, okay?”

“…Okay…” his friend looked a little sadder, but Tommy placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder, bringing his gaze to him.

“You have my support though.  After…after my dad-“ he took a deep breath, “it’s something I also can’t get and probably will never get, not until I ask my Dad what really happened, but…  Listen, I will cover for you about what happened up on the roof of Merlyn Global, but that’s it, all right?  Don’t…don’t ask me for anything else.”  He met Oliver gaze with a steady one of his own and saw the acceptance in his best friend’s eyes.

“Thank you,” the corner of Oliver’s lips quirked up in an attempt to smile, but this time Tommy was certain that this was Oliver’s real face and that he had forgotten how to smile.  And somehow, it hurt to see that.

“Just…do me one favor, all right?”

“What?”

“Don’t…don’t kill anyone anymore.”

Oliver turned away from him and shook his head a little, “I can’t guarantee it…”

“I know,” Tommy replied, “but it’s all I’m asking.”

Silence greeted his statement as Oliver nodded grimly.  It was not an affirmative, nor a denial, but it was something, and that was all that mattered to him.

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            I have a semblance of a plot!  Sorta…still plotting the whole thing out, but it’s more firm than the last two weeks.  Also, apologies for posting this two weeks late, but I’m also writing in another fic at the same time, so both are getting my loving attention.


	4. Confessions and Lamentations

Arrow: Objects in Motion

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Disclaimer:**

Arrow and all characters do not belong to me; they belong to CW, Greg Berlanti, Marc Guggenheim, Andrew Kreisberg, and DC Comics.

 

**Story:**

 

_Chapter 4 – Confessions and Lamentations_

 

Six and a half days had passed since the Glades had been leveled, nearly a week since Moira Queen had been arrested and Malcolm Merlyn exposed as the mastermind of the Undertaking.  Nearly a week also since the SCPD discovered and announced that Merlyn was the infamous Hood, or at least that was what the Police Commissioner Brian Nudocerdo had publicly announced.  The announcement had aired three days after the clean-up began and Oliver had seen Detective Lance scoff loudly and shake his head while many others had erupted into murmurs and frowns.  Clearly, little, if anyone, believed Merlyn to be the Hood, even with photographic proof of his hideaway and getup; especially not after last Christmas’ police debacle.

Oliver knew he should have been grateful for the public support, but another part of him wondered if they would turn on him so easily if they really knew who he was.  If the public really knew about him, there would be rumors about, conspiracies thrown due to his mother’s involvement in Merlyn’s plan.  Some would say that both archers were working with each other and pretended to be antagonists.  His words would be suspect, not just because of Queen Consolidated, but rather because of his wealth.  The public already were incensed by the ‘one percenters’ who seemingly got away with everything and left nothing for those who were less well off.  Those who did not have money mistrusted those who had money, especially when it came to crime.

The media would have a field day spinning his family’s name to horrific heights before burying it under so much misperception and misconceptions that the Queen family name would already be crucified even if a jury had found him not guilty.  Public opinion was what rue the day, not a box of twelve jurors.

Oliver rotated his arm gingerly as he sat on the stood behind the main bar of Verdant.  Almost all of the alcohol behind the bar itself had been stashed away or drunk by light-fingered thieves whenever the guards hired to keep an eye on the place were not looking.  Oliver suspected that even those guards had taken a few liberties, but he was willing to write off the loss.

His cell phone beeped an incoming call as he was halfway through a shoulder exercise and stopped to pick it up, “Oliver speaking.”

“Hello son,” Walter Steele’s voice was pleasant as ever, but Oliver noted an extreme amount of exhaustion in them.  News of his stepfather’s serving his mother divorce papers was already in the news, but Walter had put the impending divorce trial on hold due to Moira’s arrest.  Oliver wanted to think that his stepfather was saving her the cruelty of going through both at the same time, but he also knew that Walter was a sharp businessman and did not want the public perception that he had been involved in this whole fiasco, not until everything was cleared up at trial.  So far now, he was still CEO of Queen Consolidated, having taken his position once more.

“You sound tired,” Oliver smiled grimly as he looked around Verdant.  The initial barrage of wounded and homeless people that had come in during the beginning days had trickled down to those who were now seeking FEMA’s aid as well as meeting up with those who had missing family members and so forth.

Walter laughed lightly over the phone, “The understatement of the year, Oliver.  I wanted to ask you for your help here with Queen Consolidated-“

“Walter-“

“I know you are still recovering,” the news that it had been him and Diggle teaming up with the Vigilante to stop Merlyn had also been reluctantly released by the police when the media had clamored to find out if it was the Vigilante who had seriously wounded Merlyn on the rooftop.  He could have imagined that the media wanted more praise for the so-called ‘hero’ of the city who had done so much to stop crime in StarlingCity than the police had.

For the media to find out that it had been Oliver Queen and his bodyguard John Diggle to team up to stop Merlyn alongside the Vigilante, it had been an unexpected story.  The media had immediately spun it that perhaps Moira Queen had been working under duress; after all, if her son had been willing to confront the man who had killed his father, then perhaps there was something there instead of misperception.

It had also the unfortunately side effect of putting his and Tommy’s friendship under harsh scrutiny, but Tommy seemed to accept it well…if by being well meant not exactly talking to him or avoiding him after their little dock-side chat days ago.  Oliver had caught glimpses of his friend leaving and entering Verdant and knew that he was probably running interference between Merlyn Global and here to make sure everything was fine.

The media had also reported that Tommy Merlyn was not the new acting-CEO of Merlyn Global as Oliver had thought he would be, but rather it was a sharp perpetually angry-looking woman named Isabella Rochev who had apparently been voted by the shareholders as acting-CEO.  He wanted to ask Tommy about her, but had not managed to catch his friend in all of his comings and goings.

“You want me to come by the office?” he could guess where Walter was going with his questioning.

“I know you do not want to deal with the company as a whole, but the public perception-“

“Is the only thing that’s keeping the stocks afloat right now, yeah, I kind of got that,” it had not been hard to see stocks plunging from Queen Consolidated as investors fled in wake of his mother’s arrest.  At least there wasn’t the scandal of insider trading being flung towards the media as no one really knew that the arrest was coming.  Still, he understood that his position had now been elevated once more to scion of the Queen family, and that people would be looking towards him for answers or even as the new face of Queen Consolidated.

He wanted to say to Walter that he was busy at Verdant, but truth be told, he knew that the nightclub would not be opening within the next few weeks.  Perhaps within a month after the Red Cross, FEMA, and other city departments moved their temporary offices towards city hall, Verdant would be ready to open again.  He sighed, “I’ll stop by…”

“Good,” Walter’s voice brightened a little and he could imagine the smile on his stepfather’s tired face.  At least he had made someone happy considering Laurel had been avoiding him or had been extremely busy with the influx of refugees taking advantage of CNRI’s temporary offices in the building next to Verdant.  Many of CNRI’s caseworkers had been accompanying insurance agents and FEMA investigators to building owners’ claim inspections.  “There’s a meeting later this afternoon set for four-thirty with the board and Ms. Rochev of Merlyn Global.”

“What does she want?” Oliver immediately had a bad feeling about it and heard Walter sigh.

“Hostile takeover apparently.  Since she is the owner of Rochev Incorporated and owns at least a forty-five percentage in stock in Merlyn Global, she is looking to expand her little empire be it as it may,” Walter said flatly.

“Oh,” he grimaced, “great.”

“My words exactly,” his stepfather laughed lightly, “but this is perhaps to be an exploratory meeting.”

“We’ll say no, of course,” Oliver knew he publicly claimed that he did not want anything to do with the family company, but he had taken an interest in his family’s holdings after a economics course in business investitures and financial management at Harvard Business School before dropping out the next semester after Cambridge and Boston became a little too…boring in terms of the party scene.  It had been fun, “exploring” the gigantic college town, be it as it may, but a little too stale after the first two semesters unlike party cities of New York and Los Angeles.

“Yes, which is why I am glad you said you would come.  Having a member of the family with Queen as their last name gives more weight,” Walter sounded apologetic and Oliver felt a flash of guilt run through him.

“Walter-“

“No, don’t apologize Ollie,” he cut him off, “even though I am still your mother’s husband, there had been a specific reason why I did not change or hyphenate my last name to add Queen.  Partly out of respect to your father and my best friend, but also because of public perception.”

“I understand,” he nodded even though Walter could not see him, “I’ll see you at four-thirty.”

“Thank you again, Oliver.  This means a lot to me,” Walter said before hanging up with a click.

Oliver pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen, his eyes reading the numbers that indicated how long the call was, but not quite absorbing it.  He shook his head and pocketed his phone before continuing with his shoulder exercise.  He spotted Diggle walking out of the shadows where the door to the basement was located with several sheets of paper and head towards the manager’s office.  He had taken upon himself to help inventory what was left of Verdant’s stock after the past six days.  Since he had stayed mostly in and around Verdant, Dig had been in and out of the place, checking up on different haunts and listening for rumors and information about public perception on both the Vigilante and about Oliver Queen himself.

Oliver knew that Dig was starting to get a bit bored, even though he was also recovering from his stab wound.  Felicity had been sent home to get rest and to avoid the police for a while, but when it seemed like there was nothing coming down for her arrest by Detective Lance, she had cautiously entered the public way to check things out and had even caught Lance’s eye, but the man had made no indication that he acknowledged her or even moved towards her.

Oliver wanted to find out what Lance’s intentions were towards Felicity, but it she had strictly told him that it was her problem to deal with and so he had allowed her at least that much.  He still vowed silently to make sure that if he even got one whiff that she was going to be brought up on charges related to the Vigilante or the whole earthquake machine thing, he would spirit her away.  She did not deserve a life in prison or worst because of his stupidity in letting her continue her involvement in all of this after Walter had been found.

“Bartender, fix me up something,” Laurel’s teasing voice broke into Oliver’s thoughts as he blinked and came back to himself to see her walking up, a smile on her face.

“I’m sure I can find a good wine bottle here somewhere,” he gestured to the very empty shelves behind him, a hesitant smile on her face.

“I’m sure you can,” she shook her head as she leaned against the bar; “I just wanted to stop by and apologize for not being able to really sit down and talk with you since that night.”

“I know,” he replied, “you’re busy with CNRI and the whole thing out there-“

“That’s no excuse,” she shook her head her smile dimming a little, “even if we are…friends…”

“Ah,” Oliver grimaced, floundering for something to say before wincing, “apologies for the other night?”

“…No…” she shook her head, “I technically did break up with Tommy-“

“But…” Oliver continued her train of thought, “I kind of pushed him back to fight for you…”  He would never mention that Tommy had gotten really drunk off of Verdant’s stash and had tried to punch him in the face for his betrayal of the bond between them; of sending such a mixed message that he should fight for Laurel while at the same time Oliver had slept with Laurel.

“Oliver…” she sighed the smile now completely gone, “I…what we had…what we did-“

“I’m sorry.”

“No,” she shook her head and stared up at him, her expression earnest, “no, don’t apologize for that.  It…it was something I think we both wanted and needed.  I…I love you…”

“But…” he felt horribly conflicted and guilty at what he had done and could see the ‘but’ written all over her face.

“No ‘buts’ right now,” Laurel shook her head, “just, maybe from you.”

“What?” that was something he was not expecting.

“Is there something holding you back?” she asked, tilting her head, “or was that really a goodbye from you when we had sex?”

“…Wait, what?” he was confused.

“Oliver,” she placed her hands flat on the table, “I know that you have feelings for me and I have feelings for you.  Our history aside, and the conversation we had, and from what I know…did you give any thought to us when you went to confront Malcolm Merlyn on top of the roof of his building?”

Oliver blinked, speechless from what she was saying.  Did she mean to imply-

“You keep forgetting, I’m the daughter of a cop, a detective.  I may not have been to a crime scene in person, but I have seen evidence of what wounds look like.  I know self-defense and how to handle myself.  Your shoulder,” she gently reached out and placed a hand on top of where he had been shot.  The pain was all but gone, leaving a lingering stiffness that his daily stretches and strengthening had been making better.  “Your wound…it’s not the wound of someone who’s looking to save himself, Oliver.  You nearly died that night didn’t you?  If Mr. Diggle hadn’t patched you up you would have bled out.”

Oliver grimaced, opening his mouth to defend against her words, but at the same time no sound would come out.  It hurt hearing those words from her and as much as he wanted to close himself off to the hurtful words, this was Laurel…he couldn’t shut her down.  He had tried, tried so hard to push her away, to make her think that he was still fickle, superficial.  He wished he could have stayed that way, but he was so drawn towards her.  He loved her, and she was the balm to his wounded soul.

Yet…she could never know about the Vigilante.  She was too pure, too innocent in his opinion to know how much blood he had shed, of how much he had scrubbed his hands to get rid of the stench of coppery-ozone that he did not want to taint her with it.  He hoped that perhaps one day she would accept him, yet at the same time feared that she would reject him, push him away and stare at him with something that he hated – pity.  Even though she knew about the scars, he could see the questions burning in her eyes about them.  He could eventually tell her about them, but he knew that she was not ready to hear about them.

“Ollie…it’s the island, isn’t it?”

He opened his mouth again to deny her words before closing them as he realized that it was the truth.  It was not the whole truth, but a shade of it that she had figured out.  He nodded numbly, “The island…it’s…it wasn’t a pleasant place.”

“I know,” she smiled hesitantly, “and I know it’s something you don’t want to talk about…but if this is what it’s doing to you, that you want revenge so badly for your father’s death….don’t do it, Ollie.  Don’t hold on to that hatred for so long.  It eats you up so badly that you don’t know right from wrong.  You get lost…you…you don’t have anything to live for…”

She sighed, “I want you back in my life, Oliver.  But if this is what it means…”

He knew he could have said that it was a one-time thing only.  That with Malcolm Merlyn in custody, still in a coma, that he was done with revenge, but at the same time he knew that he was not.  He could not guarantee it to her and saw that in her eyes she wanted a guarantee.  She was so strong as he contemplated her words; words most likely borne out of experience of dealing with her own grief about her sister and about him.  And he realized that even though he wanted a relationship with her, that he truly loved her, he could not…not with the Vigilante between them, not with his father’s list, not with his vow…  The case could be made to throw everything out to be with her, but Oliver could not shake the sense that after everything the city still needed his help.

At least not yet.  Perhaps after all was said and done, but she deserved better than that, to wait for him for years. She deserved the chance to move on, to move past no matter where he stood.  He realized he was still stuck in the past, of wanting to hold onto the things that made him who he was before the island.  But she…she had grown up…

“…Can I…still talk with you?” he asked quietly and she smiled warmly.

“Always,” she smiled, but tears were in her eyes, “Oliver, I love you.”

“…I love you too,” he murmured as out of the corner of his eye he saw Tommy wander in, freeze in place before a slightly crumpled expression appeared on his face, “you two should be happy…even if I do become the third wheel in this twisted relationship.”

“Ollie!” Laurel laughed openly, hitting him lightly on his other shoulder before he reached out and gently turned her and gave her a small push towards Tommy whose expression had turned into a puzzled one.  He looked like he was about to flee the area, but Oliver shook his head a little, stopping his best friend in place.

“Tell him that he’s allowed to punch me just this once,” Oliver called after her as he saw her walking, almost shyly towards Tommy.  He watched for a moment as Tommy’s posture got defensive, his arms crossed, his wiry frame tight with anger and jealousy, before it relaxed just a little as Laurel’s lilting tone started up.  It hurt him a little to have broken it up with her and to send her to Tommy just as fast, but he knew that it was for the best.

Tommy and Laurel were non-combatants as far as he was concerned, in the battlefield that was the city, and it was best that his friends stay that way.  Laurel would at least get more truths from Tommy than from him.  He looked over to where Tommy had entered and saw Alexei Leonov, the bratva commander standing by the doors to Verdant, looking for the entire world relaxed as if he was just admiring the view.

He stepped out from behind the bar and headed towards him, noting the bratva commander flicking a look at him, but continued to look relaxed before following him outside of Verdant as Ollie led them to a more private area near the water wheel.

“Thank you,” he said without preamble, “for keeping an eye on him.”

“He is a good man,” Leonov shrugged, “for a child whose father is a monster.”

“That he is,” Oliver agreed, “which is why I didn’t want him lynched by the mob inside.”

“Will you want us to deal with the child’s father Captain?” Leonov arched an eyebrow at him, his wrinkled Slavic face becoming a little more wrinkled at the question.

“No,” Oliver shook his head, “I want the bratva to continue to lay low.  You’ve been helping this community for far longer than I have since I’ve returned.  I just need information, that is all.”

“The courts will not be fair to your name,” Leonov’s voice was completely neutral when he said it, but Oliver understood the underlying threat behind those words.

“No they will not.  But I will not let it fall upon the bratva,” he promised, “you have my word.”

“That we do,” Leonov agreed and Oliver knew it was conditional.  As soon as if there was one whiff of a Queen-Russian mob connection, the bratva would deal with him, Captain or no Captain rank.  It would irk Anatoly Knyazev in the long run, but even he knew of the close-knit bonds and secrets of the bratva that it must be protected even from threats within.

“Malcolm Merlyn must have trained somewhere.  Find me any information you can get,” he said.

“This will be presented at his trial?” Leonov questioned and Oliver shook his head.

“I don’t know…but it may be,” he knew that the bratva’s informational network was vast, but most of the time information was not gotten through legal methods.  He himself could not present it to Detective Lance or the prosecution team without having it verified through channels, but at the same time as the Vigilante he could somehow use it to his advantage…but also to be cautious at the same time.  The bratva could never know of him and the Vigilante being the same person.

“Then I will leave some alive for questioning,” Leonov inclined his head once, “Captain.”

“Commander,” Oliver bowed his head as it was due respect for the commanding officer of the StarlingCity bratva.  Within the bratva, he outranked Leonov, but respect was always given to the ‘bureau master’ as it was within each city the bratva had a presence there.

Leonov left him there by the water wheel as it spun at regular intervals, keeping the generators running as he stared out at the main part of the city.  He closed his eyes and let the cool dock-side breeze pass through him, inhaling the smell of salt and musky brackish water.  Besides having Verdant above to cover for his activities below, he had chosen this place not only because it was abandoned, but because it had been near the docks, near the smells that had been his home for five years previous.  The smells somehow soothed him at times, even though he did not like to think about his time on the island.

He extended his senses, hearing the cry of gulls, the scrap of feet upon the docks before frowning as he picked up on the screech of tires from what was definitely a cop car rolling to a stop and snapped open his eyes to see Detective Lance followed by two officers stepping out of the car, their footsteps hurried as the headed into Verdant.

He watched, a frown forming on his face as Tommy was escorted out with Lance talking rapidly to him.  Oliver canted his head a little and adjusted his hearing to listen in on what was being said.

“…word that…father…awake, Tommy….lawyer is there…but we figure you…see him now…” Detective Lance’s voice was cut off as he got into the seat next to Tommy in the back of the car before it backed up and pulled away from Verdant.

Malcolm Merlyn had woken from his coma.

                                    *                      *                      *

The bow was not an option in his condition, even Oliver knew that.  To draw his bow would only further injure his already injured shoulder and so he had strapped a small crossbow to his back as he weaved in and out of the back roads on his way to StarlingCityGeneralHospital.  The irony of using a crossbow much like Helena did was not lost on Oliver, but he ignored the impulse about her and parked his bike on one of the side streets a few blocks away from the hospital.

It was a non-descript motorcycle that had been cobbled together from custom-ordered parts as well as ones he had found lying around the mansion in the garage.  He knew he could have easily picked one of the fastest motorcycles out there, but that would be like advertising to the police that he had a Ducati or Shadow and then they would be able to eventually trace the motorcycle to him.

Traveling as the Vigilante in daylight was a little harder, since his dark green-black kohl would be a little too conspicuous.  Instead, he opted to wear a domino mask-hybrid Kevlar padded arming cap underneath his hood this time around.  His newly remade Kevlar padded outfit was not ready yet, so Oliver opted to wear his old one, albeit with the arrow-shaped hole around his shoulder sewn up.  His head was already feeling itchy underneath the arming cap and the bike helmet he wore, but at least if his hood accidentally fell off, he would not be identified so easily in broad daylight.

Climbing up the draining pipe of the nearest building, he made it to the top with little effort and rotated his injured shoulder a little to loosen some of the tightness and twinge of pain that had occurred with his climbing.

“Are you seriously out there Ollie?” Diggle’s voice crackled through the earpiece he wore and he smiled a little.

“You finally figured out I ditched you again?” he had wondered how long it would have taken for Diggle to figure out he had gone out after Tommy had left.  It did seem like Diggle had been engrossed with the paperwork…

“Felicity’s at the office and no one’s down here.  You do know that if you get into trouble-“

“This is just a little recon Dig,” Oliver jogged lightly across the rooftop and leap easily towards the next one, “Malcolm Merlyn’s awake.”

“And you want to find out if he’s going to hose us,” Diggle said a little sarcastically.

“Just trying to protect you,” Oliver offered up helpfully and heard the snort of disbelief rumble across the comm.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say,” Diggle replied, “just be careful, okay?  You’re still not one-hundred percent and before you say anything I know that because _I’m_ not one-hundred percent.”

“We all could have different healing rates-“

“I saw you doing your shoulder exercises,” Diggle shot back quickly.

“Guilty as charged,” Oliver huffed a little as he climbed up another building before leaping across to a broad window that was by the hospital façade and started to climb up, “which room is he in again?”

“Hang on…Felicity left a note somewhere here…” he heard the shuffle of papers and metallic items before Diggle’s voice returned, “Twenty-three Tango Alpha.”

“Got it,” Oliver had long memorized the layout of the hospital, after all, he had been in there several times and it had been instinct to map out the quickest escape route.  It had been a little disconcerting when he had told Diggle of it, but it was also a habit he had acquired on the island.

He climbed to the floor in question and shuffled carefully over to the requisite window _next_ to the room T-A before crouching against the large sill and brought out a small earpiece and microphone and pressed it against the lower part of the window where one wasn’t quite inclined to stare out at.  It stretched his right arm a little more than he would like, but there was no other way save for hanging off of ropes and Oliver knew that even his arms could not hold his weight, not with his left shoulder and chest still healing.

“…would like to remind you Detective that my client is innocent until it is proven he is guilty,” the voice of whoever Merlyn’s lawyer was spoke up.  It sounded smooth, almost fatherly if one was inclined to believe it.

“Yeah well, we did find a lot of evidence,” Lance’s gruff tone sounded annoyed and angry.

“And you, Tommy?  Are you going to testify against me?” Malcolm Merlyn’s voice was quiet, breathy, and tired as if he had truly just woken up, but Oliver could hear the conviction and strength in them, the power behind those words.  Merlyn probably did just wake up, but had just proven he was still a dangerous predator, even if wounded and pumped full of painkillers, antibiotics, and drugs.

“You, don’t need to answer that,” Lance cut in, “and don’t be quoting the rule book of a lawyer at me, Mr. Ducard.”

“I will not, Detective,” Oliver suspected that this Mr. Ducard was Merlyn’s lawyer.  He made a mental note to look up his lawyer when he got back to Verdant.  “I am merely curious to the younger Mr. Merlyn’s answer.  If I need to prepare a set of questions for cross-examination-“

“How about this, Detective, drop all of the charges except first degree murder and I will give you the name of the Vigilante?  How is that for a trade?” Merlyn suddenly said.

“Dad-“

“Mr. Merlyn, as your consul, I believe your mind has been addled by the medication given-“

“Hah,” Lance huffed out, “this I have to believe.  Give me the name and I won’t bring you up on new charges, how about that for a deal?”

“No, my client-“

“It’s okay Henri,” Oliver could imagine seeing Merlyn lifting a hand to stop his lawyer from saying anything, “he wants a name, I can give him the name of the Vigilante.”

Oliver frowned, a pit of dread forming in him.  This was it…he was going to have to run, flee, cut every single tie to his life again-

“You’re looking for Oliver Queen.  He’s your Vigilante.”

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            Ahahahahahahahahaha.  *continues to cackle madly*  Yeah, leaving it at that.  Fair warning, next chapter may be delayed – there’s a certain Marvel movie coming out Nov. 8th starring a certain black-haired green-eyed God of Mischief that I am head over heels about.  *coughs*  Yeah…

            Also “Crucible” episode – words fail me.  Finally, something the writers got right since the start of Season 2 – still am not quite liking Laurel’s storyline (I want her to be strong!  Not…this indecisive mopey-gah, Laurel, come on!!! Be the future Black Canary we all know you are!)  Current Black Canary aside (which is totally awesome in of itself) – anyone spot Anatoly Knyazev in the cell next to Ollie on the ship?  Heh.  He’s played by _Stargate Atlantis_ veteran David Nykl who was awesome as Dr. Zelenka.


	5. Midnight on the Firing Line

Arrow: Objects in Motion

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Disclaimer:**

Arrow and all characters do not belong to me; they belong to CW, Greg Berlanti, Marc Guggenheim, Andrew Kreisberg, and DC Comics.

 

**Story:**

 

_Chapter 5 – Midnight on the Firing Line_

 

_“You’re looking for Oliver Queen.  He’s your Vigilante.”_

Oliver’s breath froze as he heard Merlyn speak.  Even Diggle was silent on the other end of the comm., waiting for him to pronounce their collective fate.  He strained his ears, wishing he could peer through the window to see if there was any sign, any indication that Lance was going to come and arrest him, but that was as surely to sign his death warrant.  The silence dragged on for longer as there was no sounds in the hospital room save for the very faint beeping of monitors that translated across the microphone.

“Queen you say?” Lance finally spoke, his voice completely neutral, “and where is your proof?”

“Do we have a deal?” Merlyn countered quietly, his voice a little strained.

“Mr. Merlyn, as your lawyer-“

“Do, we have a deal Detective Lance?” Merlyn asked again and Oliver heard the sounds of a chair being moved across the floor before a clicking sound that told him a door was being opened.

“I don’t make deals with terrorists who mass murder innocents,” Lance’s voice was rough with anger, frustration, and Oliver held his breath, wondering if Detective Lance’s stubbornness had just inadvertently saved him.

“You don’t believe me?” Merlyn asked, his voice a little faint, but still surprised.

“Oh, I could say I believe you, but then again, who the hell knows what else have you been lying about-“

“ _Detective_ I will not have those words said to my client without any additional charges or basis-“

“I’m just about done here too,” Lance said, “have a _very_ pleasant day Mr. Merlyn.  And you, you coming?”

“Uh-“ Tommy sounded hesitant before Lance made a noise that sounded like frustration.

“Fine, I’ll wait outside or are you going to get a cab?”

“I-I’ll be a few minutes,” Tommy sounded like he wanted to desperately flee, but Oliver knew he wanted to ask his father so many questions too.  The sound of the door closing told him that Lance had left.

“Henri, can you give us a moment here,” Merlyn said, his voice a little stronger and relaxed.  Oliver realized that he had probably lifted himself at least halfway up his bed in order to make his offer to the Detective.

“As you wish, Malcolm,” Ducard’s cultured tones held the faint hint of an Irish accent, but it also seemed Americanized at the same time.  The sound of the door opening and closing again told him that the lawyer had left.

“Dig,” Oliver whispered, “search Henri Ducard.  Probably immigrant from Ireland or the British Isles may have lived in either Canada or the U.S. for a while now.”

“Got it,” Diggle’s voice betrayed none of the tension that he had to have been feeling.  He knew Diggle was expecting those words out of him and instead was perhaps hoping that his first words were either to reassure him or condemn him that they were going to be arrested.

“I don’t think we’re blown yet, but it’s too early to tell.  Lance didn’t accept or deny Merlyn’s offer of my name as the Vigilante,” he whispered.

“That’s not reassuring, but at least it’s something,” Diggle replied and Oliver smiled faintly.  He moved his shoulder joint a little bit to at least let loose some of the tension that he had been feeling since he perched himself on the window sill of the hospital.

“I have seen far more accusing eyes than that, son-“

“Don’t,” Tommy sounded pained and Oliver winced at the rawness in his voice, “don’t call me that.  I…I…how could you do that?!  How…why?  _Why?!_   I mean, all of those people-“

“They don’t deserve the chances we have been giving to them.  We’ve been trying to dig this city out of such an economic pit, but so many fruitless years and the only truth is that these people _don’t_ want to be dug out of that pit.”

“N-No…I…don’t believe that,” Tommy sounded like he was on the verge of tears, but he took several deep breaths and calmed himself down, “No.  That’s not what mom wanted-“

“She _died_ -“

“She didn’t want you destroying the Glades!”

“And how would _you_ know-“ the sudden frantic beeping of monitors followed by gasps of pain that echoed harshly over the microphone from Malcolm Merlyn’s mouth made Oliver freeze in place.  He heard the door bang open and shouts of nurses and doctors as they clamored over Merlyn.

“Oh my God, Dad, I’m so…Dad, please-no, wait!  Don’t-  Is he going to be-“

“He’ll be fine Tommy, he’ll be fine,” Lance’s voice overrode Tommy’s fading shouts as he was most likely led away by the Detective.  Oliver listened as the harsh beeping slowly steadied and the frantic shouts died down to murmurs.

“Mr. Merlyn, please, you’re still recovering-“

“I…know.  I’ve got Oliver Queen to thank for that,” Merlyn sounded exhausted, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

“I’m going to give you a higher dose of painkillers-“

“No,” Merlyn suddenly said breathless, “no.  I can…deal with it.  Just…I don’t want…”

“Please do as my client says, Doctor,” Ducard’s cultured tones had returned, but there was something seemingly off in the way he spoke, almost like silk if one was inclined to think of voices that way.  Oliver frowned as he puzzled over it before the hospital door closed once more.

Silence reigned in the hospital room punctured by the return of a steady heartbeat and Oliver looked about to pull his fingers away from the window.

“Did you like the performance, Oliver?” Merlyn’s tone was no longer harsh, nor pain-filled, but instead was quiet, steady, viper-like.  Oliver froze, his fingers still mashed against the window as he dared not breathe.  “I know you don’t want to answer, but at least you should know that I will be coming for you and everyone around you will burn.”

Oliver stayed silent for a moment, knowing that he should just leave, but he shook his head a little.  Had all of it been an act?  Even his coma?  But it couldn’t be…his wound was nearly similar to his own and Malcolm Merlyn did not have the luxury of Yao Fei’s super herbs to help him recover faster.  He activated his voice changer with a quiet click.

“We all have to face justice for the crimes we’ve committed,” he said quietly, hearing Diggle curse in his earpiece.  He knew what Diggle was thinking – that if he had to be talking with his voice changer, then something had gone wrong.

“My son did not have to get involved,” Merlyn sounded angry, almost resigned, “but you involved him didn’t you?  You corrupted him-“

“Tommy knows _nothing_ of this,” he was not going to let Merlyn hurt his own son for crying out loud.

“Tommy knows _something_ ,” Merlyn countered, “his first question should have been why the hell would I accuse you of being the Vigilante.  But no, his first question was why I had done what needed to be done.  So he _knows_ something about this.  My _son_ is not your pawn-“

“And neither is he yours!” there was no way he would let Merlyn push Tommy into doing something that was not in his nature, Dark Archer or not.

“I won’t let you take my son away from me, Queen,” Merlyn growled out, “You should have killed me when you had the chance, because I’ll take you down before that happens.”

“Then I’ll see you in hell,” Oliver wanted no more part in this sick, twisted conversation and pulled his hand away from the window as he fired his crossbow and rappelled quickly down the side of the building.  “Dig, call Tommy and tell him that his father knows that he knows I’m the Vigilante,” he jogged through the narrow alleyways and backstreets until he reached his motorcycle.

“Shit, you think Merlyn would actually use his own son?” Diggle asked and Oliver shook his head even he knew his friend could not see him.  He jammed his helmet on and started his bike.

“No, but I wouldn’t put it past him to tell his lawyer about this and having his lawyer use Tommy as a potential witness or accuse him of tampering with evidence.”  His time in and out of the courts when he was a younger man had been quite educational, as was helping Laurel with her LSATs on the occasion that she need him to be completely serious and test her.  He also did not know if Merlyn’s lawyer had truly left the room or was still in there when Merlyn had called him out.

“Would Merlyn really do that to his own son?  Wring him out in front of the courts?” Diggle asked.

“At this point, I don’t know,” Oliver admitted.  He had a hope when he had found Tommy unconscious amongst all of the dead bodies in the penthouse of Merlyn Global that the Merlyn had spared him because he cared for him.  But it also did not dismiss the fact that Merlyn had _hit_ Tommy and knocked him unconscious – whether it was to spare him the pain of seeing the inevitable fight or to give him a future alibi, he did not know.

“You heading back?” there was the sound of beeps signaling that Diggle was about to call Tommy.

“Yeah, be there in about twenty.  Taking the back roads,” he reached under his collar and shut the line down before merging onto the general traffic as he started to make his way back to Verdant.  The sun was setting now, the commuter traffic out of the main hub of StarlingCity and into the boroughs and suburbs starting to grow thick.  Oliver knew that his costume was considered non-descript and looked like a regular biker jacket, but the crossbow sitting at the small of his back was distinctive.  There was also the minor problem of the fact that his motorcycle, since it was custom-made, was not exactly registered and thus had no plates.

 He weaved in and out of traffic, ignoring a few honks of cars not familiar with the way motorcycles operated in the traffic-congested city during rush hour – which was to say, a little ride on the wild side.  Two lanes over there were at least several delivery motorcycles doing the same, so he could not be blamed for catching many unawares.  Most of the cabs though, were silent; keeping with the law that heavily fined anyone caught beeping in traffic.

He always kept at least a car and half pace back from any intersections, especially the ones populated by the traffic cops, knowing that if he edged any closer, they would see that he did not have a license plate on his bike.  About thirteen minutes later, he was free of the congestion that was the main hub of StarlingCity and headed to the Glades.  He was careful to avoid the patrol routes that he had overheard the police officers say on the radio over the past few days.

He glanced quickly at his watch and saw that had at least forty-five minutes before he was supposed to go back _into_ the city to meet up at the office with Walter.  He would have immediately stopped by, but then it would have been too suspicious if Walter or anyone else asked any questions.  Plus it was in the middle of rush hour which meant that the congestion made it so that hiding his bike and outfit was a little bit harder; say if it was night time where the shadows and long alleyways provided him with ample cover.

He turned into an alleyway about six blocks from Verdant and shut the engine off.  Hopping off, he rolled it in between several dumpsters before placing a non-descript waterproof cloth-like material over it, covering his bike and protecting it as best as he could from the elements and from would-be robbers.  The dumpsters were never emptied, having been turned into homes by a small group of local street urchins.  They knew he parked his bike there, but they were more than willing to keep it safe from any wandering eyes due to him giving them some of the gasoline to run a small gas generator that they had salvaged to keep them warm in the winter months.

He had discovered them two weeks after Christmas, while he had still been recovering from his wounds at the hands of Merlyn.  He had sort of shaded the truth when he had told Diggle that he had not worn his outfit for the past six weeks.  But he had worn it that day two weeks after and it had been his only time before the fear had driven him out of it again.  He had provided the street urchins with a portable generator that he had salvaged.  He knew he could have easily brought them a new one, but he understood the street language that anything new would instantly be stolen by others.

He had offered to take them to a local shelter, but one of the children had told him that they had been part of the foster system and had run away from home.  Some of them did drugs, but most of them stole or picked pockets.  He had understood that they did not want his help and even if he had been garbed in the Vigilante outfit when he had spotted them, all of them were afraid that he was going to report them.  He had left without another word and returned the next day with the generator to at least give them some warmth in the cold winter.

After settling the material over his bike, he peered quickly into the dumpster that contained the generator and saw that the fuel was adequate.  He was about to leave when he spotted a strip of paper wedged near the fuel gauge.  Normally, if the gauge read empty, he would fill it with the gas from his motorcycle and replace the gas later.  He pulled the paper out, the street urchins sometimes leaving him notes of criminal activity within the Glades itself since he had started to branch out from those on his father’s list.

There were only two numbers on it, but Oliver recognized it as a street intersection only a few blocks away and crumpled the paper up before shoving it into a pocket.  The urchins themselves rarely gave him notes, only giving him notes when one of their own was affected so he took the notes with some amount of seriousness.  He checked his watch, noting that he told Diggle he was going to be in Verdant in seven minutes.  Mentally shrugging, he suppose that being a few minutes late was not going to be dire, after all, he was going to just scout out the problem.  He would deal with the problem after his meeting with Walter.

He quickly leapt up on the bottom rung of an emergency escape and climbed up, feeling a twinge of his shoulder muscle protesting before he ran up the metallic steps and headed to the rooftop.  Running across it, he made good time to the intersection in question and peered over the edge, keeping himself crouched so not to actively broadcast that he was there.

He frowned as he saw the scene before him.  A line of cars extended from the main road that had been cleared of most debris.  It was one of the few entryways into the Glades was not barricaded as it was fenced off with impromptu barriers and barb wires.  At least a group of five thugs, all dressed in black masks, held various types of guns and were milling about.  Two more stood by a car that was prevented from going through the barricade.  One of the two was holding a handgun casually in his hands, not quite pointed at the driver by the window, but neither was it pointed away.

Oliver immediately understood the situation…pay a toll of sorts, money or food stuffs, judging by the amount of bagged groceries near the barricades just to get into the Glades.  He suspected that even if they were passing by or lived in the Glades, they had to pay the ‘toll’.  The other person next to the car was there to ensure that if any one in the car had a firearm, they would be persuaded not to use it.  Those that don’t pay a toll…well, his years of living on the island told him that there were far worst consequences most of the time.  He hoped, at least, that in this case, they were just turned away.

So where was the police in all of this, he wondered as he looked around and spotted it.  Smoke poured through a building in the distance on the opposite side of Verdant, and he could see the small concentration of sirens and fire engines racing to put the fire out.  Even if the police could come here, they would be part of the congested traffic since only one main road had been cleared so far.  Clever…he sucked his breath quietly in between his teeth.

They were vultures to pull a stunt like this; the devastation still fresh from the aftermath of the earthquake.  And if the urchins had left him that note, it also meant that they were stooping low to harass and threaten the children with guns.  Diggle was probably going to kill him for what he was about to do, but either way, he had to put an end to this.

He scanned the area and saw one of the five guarding the haul wandering around a nearby alleyway, playing an impromptu game of kicking a small rock like a soccer ball.  Oliver drew out his crossbow and aimed it, knowing that he would have to be very accurate with it from clear across the street.  With his bow or a full-sized crossbow, he need not worry, but with this smaller one, it was impossible at best.

He had six bolts along with the four flechettes he carried on one of his wrists.  It was not his full arsenal, but then again, he did not expect to fight anyone today.  Apparently God had a sense of humor, he mentally groused as he went from his crouch to lying flat on the rooftop to steady his aim and held his crossbow steady as he sighted down.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he fired, catching the man in between his left shoulder blade, knocking him to the ground with a pained cry.  The others were immediately alerted and started to look around, but Oliver was reloading and fired again, catching another one before he reloaded again.

“There!  There!” he suddenly ducked and rolled to the side as gunfire peppered the area.  He grimaced as bits and pieces of brick and concrete flew into the air, some bouncing off of his hood, others stinging his face.

He popped his head up and fired again, catching a third one before ducking back into his cover.  The rest were trying to find cover before he heard screams, both male and female and quickly peeked up at the sudden silence of gunfire.

What he saw nearly made him groan at his own stupidity and dread.  Two of the hostages were Thea and her boyfriend Roy.  They had been in the lead car, even though he suspected that the car Roy drove was more than likely stolen.   Along with them were another man and woman, their children screaming from the back of the family minivan that they had been pulled from.

“Come out Hood!  We know you’re there!” one of the thugs shouted, “we’re gonna blow their brains out if you don’t show up!”

“Hey, uh, isn’t the Hood supposed to be-“

“Shut it, Zeke,” the thug growled back and Oliver knew at once that he had to be the leader.

“Man, I don’t think this is a good idea-“

“Shut the fuck up!  You want me to shoot you too?!”

“No, no man…” the second thug to voice his protest sounded afraid.

Oliver knew that at least two of the four left did not expect to be taking hostages so that at least made him feel a little bit relieved.  They would only be pushed if threatened and it left the leader and the last of the four as an unknown quantity.  He stood up, holding his crossbow loosely in his hand as he saw all four look up at him.  Some of the others in cars lined up were already trying to drive frantically away.

A nervous smile of sorts was on the face of the man holding Thea hostage and Oliver had a feeling that this was the leader.  The one holding Roy though, looked pained, probably one of the sympathizers that did not expect to take a hostage.  He thumbed on his voice changer and at the same time opened the comm. line to Diggle.

“The police have been called to the corner of 12th and 3rd,” he said as he heard Diggle’s intake of breath before a frantic tapping noise then-

“Guns involved in the corner of 12th and 3rd street,” Diggle relayed his words before the sound of something being put down told him that his friend had used the phone that connected to Detective Lance.  “I’m on my way.  Don’t do anything foolish.”

“That’s supposed to impress me Hood?” the leader nervously pulled at Thea who tried to pull back, but gave a whimper instead as he yanked at her hair.  Oliver forced himself to keep calm and not do anything rash at the sight of the man hurting his sister, but it was hard.

“Hey don’t-“

“Shut it Harper,” the leader quickly pointed his gun into Roy’s face as he struggled against his captor before returning it to Thea’s head.  Oliver saw Roy’s face contort in anger at the use of his last name – which meant that these men were familiar to Roy.  Just who the hell did his sister get involved with?!  Roy Harper had a petty criminal background that Oliver was somewhat allowing to slide, but in this situation, it seemed that one of Roy’s past associates was far more murderous than he had believed.

“Come down Hood, or else I’ll blow Ms. Queen’s brains out.  Rich bitch deserves it in my opinion, but I’ll give you a chance to kill her,” the man said and Oliver narrowed his eyes.  He considered calling him out as to why he would want the chance to kill her when they were clearly hostages, but realized that he could not readily shoot the man from this distance without harming the other hostages.

“All right,” he growled out as he hooked his paracord on his belt and rappelled down the side of the brick building.  He landed in a pile of rubble, wondering what was taking so long to hear the sirens of StarlingCity’s finest.  Unhooking the line, he coiled it back up quickly and warily walked over, noting that some of the cars that had tried to get out while they could had all but stopped.  Murmurs from those who got out to see made him want to shout at them to run while they could, but he also knew that anything he did could conceivably startle the four holding their hostages.

“So why would I want to kill Ms. Queen here?” he asked, his voice harsh against the modulator.  He held his crossbow out and open, showing that there was no bolt primed in it.

“Drop the crossbow and I’ll tell you why,” the lead thug said and Oliver glared at him through his domino mask, glad that he had worn it now instead of the usual kohl he put on.  The sun was at an angle now that he knew light was spilling across half of his face.  It was not quite in his eyes, but it was getting there.

“That is not much of an execution,” he saw Thea flinched at his words, but refused to show any emotion on his own face.  He did not want to scare her, but at the same time he also knew that he could not allow the others to see that he was affected by her plight.  Roy however, was trying to burn holes into him judging by how angry he looked and how much he moved against the thug holding him captive.  He could hear the wordless curses and whispers coming from his lips, about how he had saved him only for him to participate in such a farce to kill Thea; of how when he would get his hands on him, he was going to die.

“Drop the crossbow,” the lead thug stated again, “and your fancy bow if you have that too.”

“I’m sure you would have seen it,” Oliver could hear Diggle’s harsh breaths over the comm. as he ran towards the intersection.  He pursed his lips for a moment before he heard it; the distant sirens, north of the area where the fire was and also west of the area from the main part of the city.

“Drop it!  Or else-“

Oliver canted his head as he raised his other hand and slowly knelt down, putting his crossbow down on the ground and started to stand slowly back up.

 “Hey, I hear sirens Ty,” the first thug that had protested suddenly spoke up, moving his hostage, the father of the children in the minivan around.

“Well then, maybe we should step up the execution-“

“Dude, Ty, they’re getting close-“

“Shut your mouth Manny, and Zeke, don’t you be starting-“

In that split second that Ty, the thug that was holding Thea hostage had taken his eyes off of Thea, Oliver reacted and sprang forward.  He reached out and gripped the barrel of the gun while turning it and ripping it out of Ty’s hands.  However, he felt the gun go off, his hand suddenly burning from the heated barrel and dropped it as Ty stumbled back.  The bullet barely clipped underneath his outfit as Thea screamed and jumped before diving out of the way.

The others started to shout, but Oliver heard the pop-pop of gunfire and saw Diggle running towards him, a balaclava covering his head as he fired at them.  The others tried to scatter as they shoved their hostages out of the way.  Oliver ran past one of the thugs falling to the ground, wounded from a bullet as he picked up a metal rod lying on the ground, having been broken during the earthquake and caught Ty, slamming across his back.

The man rolled to the ground and regained his footing, but Oliver was already advancing forward as he heard Roy shout and scuffle with his captor, Diggle containing the others.  He ducked against Ty’s first punch, and twisted into his second, before blocking with his left arm and felt a sharp shooting pain crawl from his chest to his shoulder.  Crap, he had forgotten about his injury.  Oliver twisted again and fought for a measure of distance as he smacked the rod into Ty’s free arm and then his knee, making him stagger back.

He took advantage of the situation and poked the end of the rod into Ty’s gut, making him gasp and fold, but Oliver was not done.  Twisting the end, he sent it flying upwards against his jaw and heard the crack of bone breaking before the man moaned and tried to gurgle out his pain.  He fell to the ground and stared up at him, fear evident in his eyes.  His hands were held up to try to ward him away.

“If I see you hurt anyone coming into the Glades next time, it’ll be your life,” he growled out as he stalked forward, “and stay away from Thea Queen.”  He finished his sentence by driving the pointed end of the rod into Ty’s shoulder, making him scream in pain amongst his gurgles of breath.  He knew that a part of him should have felt some remorse at what he had done, but he quashed that part ruthlessly.  Ty had nearly hurt Thea and he would be damned if someone hurt his little sister-

“Come on!  We’ve got to go!” Diggle’s shout near him and in his ear startled him from his dark thoughts as he took a deep breath and stepped back, realizing what he had really done.

The thug named Ty was moaning now, his breath in hiccups and pained gasps, his jaw broken, blood freely flowing while he flailed against being pinned by the rod in his shoulder.  Oliver suddenly felt sick as he stared at the metal rod before he felt Diggle tug on his shoulder and he looked up at his friend to see him shaking his head, but gestured beyond him.  He turned to see the flash of sirens getting closer and thought he saw Roy gesturing to them to hurry, the young man holding a gun steady on the thugs all on the ground.

“Come on!  The kid’s giving us the opportunity to escape,” Diggle spoke into his ear, but it was seemingly muffled as he stumbled along.  He could feel something being pressed into his hand and realized it was his crossbow as he and Diggle ran into the alleyways, ducking and weaving a route that would never trace back to Verdant.

He did not know how long he had been running, but Oliver suddenly blinked and found himself back in the familiar cool lights of Verdant’s basement, sitting on one of the stools around the area.  A part of him realized that they had ran around the blocks for the last fifteen minutes before Diggle had all but guided him back into Verdant’s secret entrance.

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” Diggle walked in front of him and sat down opposite of where he was.

“It…” Oliver bit his lip as he realized what had happened; what he had _allowed_ to happen.  “I…”

“Were you going to tell me sometimes you went into a fugue state?” Diggle asked, his tone short and none too pleased and Oliver grimaced.

“I…no…not…I…I didn’t know that there was anything else after the island…that…could bring me into that state,” he dared not mention how he had taken down all of Cyrus Vance’s guards in that state since Laurel’s kidnapping.  It was only Detective Lance’s presence that had literally snapped him out of it, giving him the chance to stop Lance from making the same mistake he almost did.

“Uh huh…” Diggle looked like he wanted to say something else, but then shook his head, “this conversation isn’t over Oliver, just tabled for now.  Go get yourself cleaned up.  I’ve been doing some preliminary digging about Henri Ducard though Felicity-“

“Crap,” Oliver groaned as he remembered the meeting with Walter and glanced at his watch, “I am so late to Walter’s meeting…”

“I’ll drive you there, we can talk on the way,” Diggle shook his head before standing up.  “Ollie…”  He looked up at his friend who closed his mouth and seemed to stare at him with an unascertainable gaze before shaking his head once more.  “Just…get cleaned up and let me take a look at your shoulder before we head out.”

Oliver could only nod the apology on his lips, but not quite falling from it.  It would be insincere if he actually said it right then and there and both knew it.

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            A note to all readers, the pairings of this story are only for reference and should be considered not a big part of this story.  My main forte is action-adventure and drama writing, not romance.  This story will be heavily character driven and while kisses (and perhaps other things) may happen, it’s not really my primary focus.  Just wanted to clear that up.

            On another note, Henri Ducard; the name should be familiar to fans of Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy as he goes by another name and is considered a part of the League of Shadows.  Since the League of Assassins has been introduced in _Arrow’s_ Season 2, I’m basing this more on the Batman League of Shadows than _Arrow’s_ (unless they end up going the Batman route too – then that’s fandom hilarity at its best).


	6. Chapter 6 and Final Author's Notes

Arrow: Objects in Motion

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Disclaimer:**

Arrow and all characters do not belong to me; they belong to CW, Greg Berlanti, Marc Guggenheim, Andrew Kreisberg, and DC Comics.

 

**Story:**

 

_Chapter 6 – Rumors, Bargains, and Lies_

 

The ride back into the heart of Starling City and Queen Consolidated took about forty-five minutes due to the police cordoning off the intersection where the thugs had been trying to set up their ‘toll booth’ and Oliver had taken a call from Thea who said that she was fine and hung up before he could pretend to press for more details. He had called Walter immediately to apologize for his lateness, but apparently the ‘toll booth’ incident had made the evening news and Walter had pressed for the meeting to be postponed for at least an hour for his sake. Isabella Rochev had agreed and for now, Oliver was only going to be fifteen minutes late instead of a whole hour and fifteen minutes late.

When Oliver walked out of the elevator and onto the executive floor of Queen Consolidated, he was surprised to see only Walter and Felicity in the meeting room. He cleared his throat and tilted his head, “I thought Ms. Rochev was meeting with us?”

The corner of Walter’s lips quirked up in a small smile before gesturing for him to come in and also gestured to behind him for Diggle to come in too.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Final Notes/Apologies/Explanation:**

 

**What was in store for Chapter 6 -**

Chapter 6 would have set up the fact that Walter secretly knew that Oliver was the Vigilante and would have become like Lucius Fox was to Bruce Wayne in Nolan's Batman movies. This chapter would have also explored the beginnings of a repaired relationship between Tommy and Laurel only to be interrupted by Detective Lance. Lance would have sat down to talk with Tommy, not about his daughter, but more about what Tommy should expect regarding the investigation with Malcolm Merlyn and what his part was in all of it. Lance might have hinted that he has inklings of who the Vigilante was, but for the sake of his own relationship with his daughter and everything happening, he would have to be very careful in his investigation. Tommy calls him out on it, saying it would be conflict of interest and Lance says he knows, but hints vaguely that maybe it's Tommy's turn to tell the Vigilante to stop taking so much risks lest he (hinting that it's Oliver) arrests him again for being the Vigilante.

 

**What was in store for the rest of the story -**

The story would have revealed that Merlyn's lawyer was non other than Ra's Al-Ghul, using the name of Henri Ducard (yet another Nolan Batman allusion) and featured the return of Deathstroke/Slade Wilson as one of the two main villains. The other one would have been the League of Shadows themselves to come start what Malcolm Merlyn had not finished. Unlike what was revealed in Season 2 of the actual TV series, it would have turned out that Merlyn had orders from the League of Shadows to cleanse Starling City, similar to the plot of _Batman Begins_. Deathstroke, while not part of the League, knew that the time of chaos was to go after Oliver. I had a very similar and parallel plotline regarding Slade Wilson/Shado/Oliver Queen on the island that also resulted in Shado's death, by Oliver's hands and Slade blaming him for it. The Bratva would have eventually played a big part as Oliver's allies outside the courtroom, finding him evidence and gathering him a force to combat the incoming League of Shadows threat.

Slade would have shown up in the middle of Malcolm's trial, trying to kill Oliver in the middle of his testimony against Malcolm Merlyn. It probably would have been pretty awesome of a fight scene I had planned in my head regarding Oliver vs Slade, complete with them running all over Starling City and everyone else generally going WTF (exception was Team Oliver with their heads on straight and trying to get to the heart of this). Tommy would have taken center stage using Merlyn's resources and directing Felicity and Diggle's efforts.

Mostly this would have been a story of Oliver's eventual reveal as the Vigilante with an ambiguous ending to boot also. It also would have been the slowest burn of a relationship between Felicity and Oliver with Tommy and Laurel as a side pairing.

 

** Why I stopped writing - **

I stopped writing pretty much when it was revealed that Slade would eventually become Deathstroke with the Mirakuru in Season 2. I stopped partially because I wanted to see how the writers played out that whole plotline and the resolution, but mostly because as a writer, I don't like rehashing similar plotlines in my stories if they're already played out. As a writer, I might have changed parts, but the whole plotline regarding Slade was very similar to what I had already in my head so it kind of left me hanging in terms of what else to do.

Now it's been revealed that the League of Shadows and Ra's al-Ghul is the main bad guy in Season 3 I am definitely shelving this story because essentially I have no plotlines to write of for this story. And the fact that Malcolm Merlyn is alive in Season 2 and onward kind of negates a lot of it.

I also primarily started writing this story because I was sad that Tommy was dead and wanted to write something action and plot heavy with him – and plus I think he was a great fit for Laurel (good freaking God, I get what her character's plotline was in the first few episodes of Season 2, but seriously? The last several episodes...dude, she was holding the idiot ball – I personally think she's too smart of a character to actually have allowed herself to get captured by Slade like that, but hey, I'm not a CW-Arrow writer – so they made her hold the idiot ball). I also would have given Laurel a better plot line since I like her as a character, but hate how the writers in the TV show wrote her.

Anyway, I wanted to apologize for those who were expecting this story to continue. I honestly have no further interest in writing it since Season 2 and eventually Season 3 took a lot of what I was planning. Maybe one day I'll return to the Arrow fandom, but for now, I'm sitting back and enjoying what the show has to offer.

Btw, I'm still waiting for my  _Nightwing_ TV show. But I'll take Oliver's pseudo-Nightwing persona (and apparently a lot of Dick Grayson's comic storylines) right now.

 


End file.
